Future Diary: Restart
by TheRubyValentine
Summary: "Why don't you create a new demension and restart the game!I'm so bored?" "That's not a bad idea..." After Muru muru's scrrew up, she convinces Yuki to create a new world that only he controls. New Contestants. New Diaries. New Winner. New Standards. New danger. Same Rules.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Future Diary or any other references used!

_Future Diary: Restart_

How It All Began

"C'mon, can't you do something?"

"I told you no. We can't risk causing all that trouble again. It's better to let things run its course. And besides things are different. The Third World me is no longer in the Game. Akise and Third World you are. That's different."

" I don't care! He's still in love with you! They're the same thing! Well, if I'm mistaken, you found Yuno. You got what you want. What do I get? Old manga. That's what. I'm bored!"

"That's not tr-"

"What if you create a separate world?"

"Absolutely no-"

"Just hear me out."

"Fine."

"Okay. Hoo. What if you created a new dimension that was exactly like this one."

"But how would we decide who would replace that world's Deus? Wouldn't it turn out the same?"

"Ah. See. You didn't let me finish. YOU would create new players and since YOU made this universe, you could rule both dimensions until a winner has been decided. From there THEY could rule under your supervision. Then I have my entertainment, you can spend more time with Yuno, all while being the first First with an original idea! Everybody wins!"

"That's actually not a bad idea."

"I told you! See, I'm not all just looks."

"Just one question."

"Hm?"

"When did you come up with all of this Murmur?"

_The New First..._

"May he rest in peace."

Sunday afternoon, Robin Kingston stood among rows of people at a place he had never hoped to be- his Father's Funeral. He stared vacantly at the white lilies that seemed to be wrapped around everything. He didn't see how lilies symbolized death for they were white, the color of renewal and life. Not a tear had shed from his face. Not now at the real funeral, not when he had been taken out if school early only to find out that his papa had been gruesomely stabbed, not ever. He didn't understand how this could happen. Murders only happened to bad people, and Mr. Kingston was one of the nicest people he had ever met.

"Any final words?" The old, horsey looking priest asked gesturing to the crowd. He crossed himself. "Then we shall lower him into his grave."

Robin snapped into attention, mortified. Lower him into his grave? How could anyone say that without being insanely unemotional? His bottom lip began to quiver. At first it was barely perceptible, but when he saw his mom, Delia, just standing there, he couldn't help but lose it. Her gorgeous brown hair blowing in the breeze. Her frosty lit eyes, they seemed relieved. Why was nobody doing anything to stop this? He looked at the people. They all seemed bored to him.

The death lilies, the grotesque black coffin, the depressing organ music, the entirety of the situation- it was all too much. Robin's field of vision blurred. He pushed past his mother and ran. His foot rose and sank into the damp ground with every stride. He had no idea where he was going, he just had to. The rain began letting up. It felt like heresy. Even the weather didn't care.

Robin eventually sat down under a tree that looked dead because of its lack of leaves.

"Why God?" Robin sobbed. "How could you let this happen?" He lifted his head and rubbed at his eyes. He  
took out his cell phone. He had gotten used to keeping a diary of things around him. To himself, the world was infinitely fascinating. He accidentally pressed the camera button and he just looked at himself. His eyes were puffy and had luggage under them. He looked like he had pink-eye.

A fuchsia colored bike suddenly came roaring from out of nowhere. It collided against a tree several feet away with a thud, a small girl lying at least a yard away.

Robin sprang to his feet. "Are you alright?" No answer. "Hey. Hey! Wake up!" He began shaking the girl frantically. "Don't you die on me too!"

The girls face twisted into a smile. "I wouldn't do that!" She had tan skin and her hair was an off shade of silver. It practically gleamed in the light.

"Thank goodness." He sighed, relieved. "Should I take you to the hospital?"

The girl gave him the once over and turned away. "I'll be fine. You look like a wreck."

Robin looked down. His crisp black suit was now ruined with all of the mud caked in. He rolled his eyes. "What was your name?"

"Murmur. And your name is Robin right?"

"How did you know?"

Murmur muttered something to herself and she crossed her arms. "How would you like to become God?"

He blinked. Maybe he had hit his head coming here. "Are you insa-"

"How rude!" Murmur interjected. "I was being completely serious and here you are calling me insane!" She paused. "I guess it's true that kids here don't have manners..."

"Pardon?"

"Nothing. But I was being completely serious. You're sad right? And you want to avenge your father?" Robin nodded. "Then you shall be our final player! Congratulations, The First!" Murmur snickered and pointed her thumb in the air.

"Wait-" Robin blinked a second time. The girl nor the bike was present. "Maybe I am crazy..."

_Chapter 1_

_The New Normal_

Wednesday morning, Robin slumped down in front of a maple in the Daniel's front yard, which was the house in front of his own, waiting for the bus to pass. His mother was out of town this week on a business call and he was at home by himself. He didn't fully understand why he didn't just not go- it wasn't like he needed to. At the rate he was going, he would end up being held back this year.

A group of cookie toting Girl Scouts skipped up to his door. They were making early morning runs. Bad strategy when most people work... They rang the doorbell. Robin wanted to say, Delia's not home, but she loves Samoa's. The Girl Scouts walked away giggling. Their her Favorite. . .

He felt like a stranger in his own house ever since last year. Robin had concluded that he had hit his head because he still saw Murmur. She seemed nice but weird. She even introduced him to "The Ruler of Time and Space". His name was Yukki. I'm a way he reminded him of himself. Yukki seemed reserved and distant, almost like he was looking for something. Then again, wasn't everybody?

Robin's hand reached for his cell phone out if instinct. Right as he touched the smooth, cold surface, a message appeared.

7:25 Bus arrives early today.

"That's funny." Robin said randomly pressing buttons. "It must be broken. It's not even 7:25. It will be in 25 minutes though."

23 minutes and 2 dogs running by later, Robin was still messing with his phone.

"Robin!" A girls voice called. Robin turned his head and found it to be Spencer Lates, an overly perky blonde who was in every extracurricular activity possible. He propped himself up on his elbows.

"Hey." He ducked his head bash fully. It was unusual for someone like her to be associating with him. Sure, last year they talked all the time. But that was when he was still Mr. All-American Boy scout. Grade point average of 4.0, volunteered to stay after class to help the teacher, got the lead in all school plays, and he was popular. If you asked him, he didn't miss that life. Skating by under the radar was perfectly fine with him.

"What cha doin'?" Spencer asked kicking at the ground.

"Nothing." Robin responded, he had taken a sudden interest in a bird that was flying by.

"Oh." Spencer sounded disappointed. "That's cool." The awkward situation was palpable. She began tugging playing with the hem of her skirt, which had been hiked up to a barely school level appropriate. A screech resonated from a distance. "Did you hear that?"

Robin sprang for his phone. No way. The bus HAD arrived at 7:25. He stared at his phone in disbelief as the fat bus driver yelled at him to get his ass up and on the bus. Just a lucky guess. Robin shrugged his shoulders.

The scent of rotten eggs and burnt plastic lingered distastefully in the air. Robin decided to sit in his usual seat, the first one. As long as he sat in the front, no one noticed him. It had become routine. He had even made a game of it. The more kids that noticed him gave him one point. The more points he got determined his luck factor. Needless to say, he had few of these anymore. His phone screen flickered on. New messages.

8:10 Lockdown drill  
8:20 Phoebe Cline announced dead

What the hell was this? Was this somebody's idea of a joke? Robin whirled around. He inhaled deeply and counted to ten. Spencer had taken the seat behind him, giggling loudly and twirling her long hair. This was a joke. It had to be. A new message popped up.

8:24 Dead End- Bleeds to death

He felt woozy. He clutched the seat for support. Bleeds to death? This had to be a prank. It just HAD to.

"You alright?"

Robin clicked his phone off. He blew air between his teeth. He shut his eyes. When he opened them, the bus was pulling into the schools bus drop off. Had the bus been transported here? The buses breaks screeched to a halt. One by one kids filed out. His eyes boggled. He whipped out his phone. 8:00. Class started soon. This was no time to worry about this. After all it was a joke, right?

The class bell rang, five minutes later. Robin had sat himself in the back of the class. Their teacher, Mr. Hurst was writing bellwork one the board. Robin felt that it was pointless because nobody actually did bell work. He stared at the clock, bluish-black eyes unwavering. The room could've been on fire and he wouldn't have noticed.

He was so entranced, he didn't even notice the cute new girl smiling like an idiot at him. Three minutes, two minutes, one minute left. The clocks hand rounded, and made its final stroke. Robin breathed in a sigh of relief. Suddenly, the schools loud speaker came on.

"All staff members please lock all doors. This is not a drill. I repeat not a drill."

"Please remain cal-" The teacher began motioning the the corner. Of course this was a direct order for mass hysteria. The entire class erupted in chorus of whispers and shrieks. His mouth hung open in disbelief. No way. This thing told the future. So that means...?

Robin whipped out his phone. The messages had changed? What read  
"8:20 Phoebe Cline announced dead" now read "Spencer Lates killed".

"N... No way." Robin felt dizzy. So far everything else had come true, so that meant that he would die? The old style classroom that was definitely in need of a remodeling, began swirling. The maroon colored walls mixed with the lone off white one.

"Do something. Save her." It was Mr. Kingston's voice. A shiver ran up his spine.

"I, I have to," Robin began mumbling pathetically to himself. "I have to do something." He rubbed his finger bone to his collar bone where a light scar rested. Mr. Kingston had accidentally given it to him on a salmon fishing trip in Alaska the summer of 4th grade.

All at once Robin pushed back his selfish thoughts of his foreseen death and focused on the previous one. Spencer Lates, killed. She didn't deserve it. Spencer lived her life to the fullest even at a young age. People like her would shoot the moon. He had to save her. It made it worse that she didn't even know it was coming. This, this future diary would help him.

Robin clutched his phone. In one motion he sprang up, pushed past his classmates and ran. The door was only locked from the outside thankfully. Mr. Hurst had busied himself elsewhere so he never noticed. Robin sprinted past the school's garden, then the nurses office, then the main office. Where was Spencer?

8:15 Attacked in locker room

That's it. The gym. That must be where she was. Robin made a sharp turn through a greenish brown bush. The gym sat a few yards away. He checked his phone. 8:13. Time was ticking.

Robin approached the wide gymnasium doors that had their school mascot, a penguin, on its black tinted panels. A few years ago the school redecorated and changed their mascot. They went from the Daring Dragons to Peppy Penguins. It was a no brainer to conclude that their mascot was lame. He slammed all his weight against the door, his manic panting echoed throughout the gym.

The girls locker room door, that was painted grey stood in his away. His pulse raced in his temples. If it were different circumstances, he would have been thrilled to be entering the girls locker room. But this was different. In this case, it actually was a life or death situation.

"Spencer!" Robin yelled as he pushed through to the other side of the door that seemed to be needing repairs. The girls locker room was exactly like the boys. Same royal blue lockers, same benches, same everything. He sighed mildly disappointed. No. Focus Robin.

"Who's there?" Spencer shot back. She appeared to be in the back by the lost and found boxes.

"R-Robin." He stammered, walking back to where the blonde was located. As he rounded the corner, sure enough Spencer was there. Her Caribbean blue eyes darted back and fourth like a lizard that he had seen at a zoo in Dallas. She was rummaging through the lost and found, her perfectly highlighted, ash-blonde hair hung in her face. She was wearing blue and pink shorts and had on the schools standard black hoodie. It was obvious that Spencer was late for P.E.

"Why are you here? You saw your flag didn't you?" Spencer seemed angry with him for some reason.

"Look," Robin started. "We don't have much time. My phone predicts the future and I know I sound crazy but," Spencer leaned forward and grabbed his face.

She looked into his eyes. "I know already. You have to trust me. I'll answer all your questions later."

Clink. A knife pierced the wall, narrowly missing Robin's right ear. He fell to the ground clamping his ears shut. He looked back. The knife hasn't hit the wall after all. It had hit Spencer. The air smelt metallic- blood. Robin's face grew pale.

"Well, well," An ominous voice cooed from the entrance. 8:15. Damn. This was it. "I didn't think you would be that easy to find. But here you are!" Spencer collapsed onto the floor. The door fluttered shut. The owner of the voice presented herself.

She looked to be in her early 20s or late teens. Her short, coffee colored hair was pulled back into a pony tail with the shorter pieces framing her heart shaped face. Her skin was slightly tanned from being out in the sun. She wore a black cape that stretched to her feet.

"Drew Piper. Hired assassin." Drew smiled maniacally at Robin who was cowering under a bench. The villain checked her blackberry. " I was hoping to end both of the Ones but I'll settle with just the First." She burst forward and wrenched her hands around his neck.

Her voice felt like a knife. The locker crickets were chirping hysterically. Robin screamed and pulled back. He kicked Drew's chest. As she squealed and recoiled (some assassin), Robin pushed her off and burst for the door. He tumbled onto the cement and ran to the football field. There was a fence which he could climb and get away. Drew's footsteps came closer and closer. Just as he neared the chain link gate, her arms wrapped around his waist, throwing him to the ground. Drew giggled like this was a game and climbed on top of Robin. She again wrapped her hands around his neck. Drew pressed down attempting to keep him still. "Just give up! My diary has already predicted your Dead End. It's useless to struggle!"

He felt weak. He was getting his ass handed to him by a girl. "Like hell I will!" Robin screamed kicking his legs into Drew's body, knocking her on her butt a few feet away. Robin scrambled up. His senses heightened as adrenaline rushed through his veins. A screw driver laid by the green electrical transformer. His legs practically flew towards it. His fingers embraced the grooved handle.

Drew was right behind him. Her face scrunched into a mock pout. "Aww. Come on. I thought this would be easy." She lunged forward, blade in hand.

Robin shut his eyes and just reacted. His arms pressed into her stomach and thrusted the screw driver, anywhere. He saw the whites of her eyes. She screamed an ear splitting cry of pain. Blood oozed from the wound. But Robin had missed? He turned his head and saw a girl about his age standing in the sun. She was clenching a smoking gun. How could he have missed the gun shot? Drew scampered towards the thicket, leaving a trail of blood following her every movement.

Robin didn't realize it at first, but he was falling, fast. Then the ground hit him. Another scream echoed in the distance. It seemed to be coming from him. His head hit the ground with a crunch. His eyes slammed shut.

8:30, Robin awoke in his bedroom. Everything seemed to be in place. Had he imagined this? Robin's hand grazed his phone but coiled in. Someone was there.

A girls head poked through the door. "Oh good you're awake!" It was Spencer. Her arm was wrapped in a sling.

"How are you," Robin started but was hushed.

Spencer placed her pointer finger to his lips and lightly pushed him down. "Everything will be explained in a minute." Spencer glossed her lips with boysenberry frost lip gloss. She smacked her lips glamorously, admiring herself in Robin's mirror that sat on his oak wood desk.

The door opened again. This time it was the girl from earlier. He got a better look at her. Her face was exotic. She batted her eyelashes and peered at him with jungle green crayon colored eyes. She was wearing wearing the girl's uniform with a turquoise bubble best over it, with brown and red intricately decorated cowboy boots. A red bandana stuck out from her vest's front pocket.

"Mona. You must be Robin." Mona spoke. Her voice was smooth. "You're lucky to be alive right now. Had Eighth actually had anything lethal on her, you wouldn't have had a chance." Spencer nodded in agreement.

Spencer reached into her oversized, yellow bag and unearthed her phone and a bottle of perfume. She lightly spritzed her wrist with perfume and neck and inhaled deeply. "I just love this stuff!"

Mona shoved her sleeve to her nose. "Anyways," she began. " We need to summon Yukiteru."

"Good idea. I think I've handled enough stress today. Why not let him explain it?"

Spencer and Mona closed their eyes. Robin's room was transformed to an almost stadium like area covered with clouds.

"Eleventh! I haven't heard from you in a while!" Murmur exclaimed, slamming shut a graphic novel. Her face lit up.

Spencer's face scrunched into a glare. "Why didn't you explain the rules, Yukiteru?" Man. Spencer was scary when she wanted to be. He made a mental note to never piss her off.

Yukki looked around. "Hmm. I thought I left that job up to you, Murmur." He cast a disapproving glance in her direction.

"Funny story. I-" Murmur began, shielding her face.

"You're right though, Eleventh." He completely ignored Murmur's 'apology'. "A meeting is in order." He outstretched his arm. "Come! Slay god!"

Robin was suddenly upon a pedestal at least ten feet in the air. Their were eleven others. A different person for each pillar. It reminded him of the Roman mythology section in history. The Di Constenses or 12 deities that were the most important were placed upon pedestals and worshipped by the people of Rome.

Robin could see no clear person. Everyone was covered in a haze of purple. He could barely make out Spencer and Mona. Spencer two spaces to his left and Mona directly to the right. Three spaces to Spencer's left was Drew who's hand was covered in bandages.

Yukki spoke. His voice boomed throughout the large temple like building. "Each one of you had been selected to compete in a battle royale to become ruler of this dimension." He looked at the entire circle from above. "The rules are simple. Your Diary predicts different things depending on its type. If your diary breaks or is destroyed, you lose. Thus forfeiting your life. If you kill another player, they lose. You will be given warnings called Dead Ends. It is possible to change them. Be warned, anything can happen. Now go forth and win! Good luck."

The room disappeared. Mona and Spencer stood stiff.

"That means we have to kill each other." Mona replied stoically.

"Basically." Spencer said casually with the flick of her hand. They glowered at each other. Somehow it seemed like a tease.

Robin felt the back of his neck which was covered in sweat. "I, I can't do this. I won't kill either if you." He peered up at them through tears. "I can't do this. How did I get involved in this?" Robin was surprised neither of them had thrown themselves through his French double doors and off the balcony in disgust.

"I'll protect you." Spencer held out her hand. "I promise." She seemed sincere. Spencer gazed into Robin's eyes. She looked completely innocent. Robin wished that he could pull off that look. That was probably why she got everything she wanted.

"I can't promise anything but I think it might be wise of me to stick around. If we team together we can gain an upper hand." Mona said calmly, tying her platinum blonde hair into two braids. She took out her red bandana and tied it expertly.

They all exchanged varying glances. Finally Spencer spoke, her voice delicate and smooth as velvet.

"From now on we are Team 1211."

_"So did I sound like Deus?"_

_"Yeah... Sure... Like Deus." _

_**Author's Note**_: Hello! I wrote this for my three bestest friends in the entire world as an early Christmas present. Hope you enjoyed and please favorite or review or don't. I'm just freakin happy I got this posted. Man. I had to delte a lot of product references... Ugh. Remind me to never to that.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Future Diary or any of the various references mentioned.**_

Blood still trickled down slowly from Drew Piper's gun wound. She breathed in exasperated breaths through clenched teeth and limped to a large, semi-leafy tree that stood out behind an empty gas station. Drew was trained in treating wounds like this, so she wasn't worried. Plus, her Dead End hadn't been prophesied. Thankfully.

After the meeting today, something finally clicked inside her fogged up brain. While she knew of the rules, it never occurred to her that she would have to kill eleven other people. This game would definitely try her skills and her intelligence. That little brat and his friends, one of which had a freaking gun, had proved to be MUCH more of a challenge than originally expected.

Drew reached into her pocket and pulled out her Diary- The Head Start Diary, that she didn't entirely begin to comprehend, still had no messages. She scrolled over to send a text to her boss to ask for a larger pay. Those kids were armed and dangerous. They had only shot her hand but next time she might not be as lucky, but that's what she was for... right? Drew buried her face into her good hand and sighed deeply. Some assassin...

"Thank goodness." A silky voice whispered into the chill of the autumn air. Footsteps could be heard crunching in fallen leaves. A shadow that stood a mere 4'5 feet high inched closer. Drew rolled her Siberian blue eyes. It was probably just a kid... Out walking around at five o'clock in the morning? Something seemed wrong. A sense of danger fluttered up her spine. She let her injured hand fall to her side. It had stopped bleeding temporarily. Drew slid her bad hand to her diary, the other to her knife.

The shadow came into her viewing range. It was a boy no younger then eleven. He had tears streaking down his cheek and his nose was running. He had the faintest trace of pink etched onto his frail looking face- Porcelain. The moonlight echoed off of his stark white, shaggy hair. Drew could practically see herself glaring back defensively in his violet eyes. The sense of danger left abruptly and it left a sense of empathy. His face seemed to be pleading and searching.

"I, I, can't," The boy sniffled. "Plea-"

Drew stood up and ran her fingers through her matted hair and picked out a remaining twig from the run over. "Can I help you with something?" The boy stared back, startled. She had huffed that out so quickly, she even surprised herself a little. Drew slid her diary into the top of her brown, knee length boots.

"Can you help me?" he gazed up warmly at her, his eyes flickering like fire. They seemed to be brimming with optimism. The strangest thing happened. When she opened her mouth to answer, she saw a young girl that resembled someone she knew... Somehow. Long, straight brown hair, blue eyes that reflected every felt emotion. The girl smiled almost pitifully, a small, blue, stuffed dog lying in her crossed arms. Her clothes were ratty and were worn with holes. But the girl looked, happy? Strange... She felt nostalgic and her head felt even foggier then it did before. Who was she? And what did this boy, standing here bring up these odd, er, memories? Drew wasn't sure what to call this.

She shook her head erasing the girl. Out of sight, out of mind. "What can I do for you?" Drew whispered as to not scare him or herself again. It was chilly out. The wildlife purred peacefully, almost like they were watching this quiet exchange.

The boy reached for her good hand and squeezed. "I'm lost. Can you help me find someone? The boy's eyes yearned for listening. The wind whistled through the ghostly thin branches of the nearby trees.

Drew nodded, slowly. She smiled softly and squeezed back. "Yeah. I can."

An unfamiliar sound rang through the night air like a siren song.

Beep Beep

Drew slid her Diary half out of her pocket, just enough to see the screen. The screen was dim from earlier. The noise was startling because she always kept her sound off. Why would it go off now? Drew's eyes darted to its screen. Haunting words stood on her once clear, white screen. Drew's mouth gaped open.

"Is there something wrong ma'am?"

**10:10 AM Dead End- Electrocution**

_**Chapter 2**_

_**The World's Most Shocking Monsters**_

Robin watched as steam from his vanilla latte, that Spencer had gotten for him, rose into the air and evaporated instantaneously. Spencer sat across from him flipping through an Elle magazine. She tapped her French manicured nails to a pair of patent leather heels by some designer that Robin had never heard of. The early morning sun streamed in through the plate glass windows.

"I just adooore these." Spencer explained, clicking her tongue. "What do you think?"

"Their cool." Robin muttered, his attention elsewhere (Not that he particularly cared in the first place). The only thing he knew about shoes, aka this conversations life source, was that girls liked them for some unknown reason. And that one pair of Converse weren't appropriate for all occasions. Too many damn rules. Again, he would never understand girls.

"Now, go fourth and win!" Yuki's words reverberated through his mind like a pinball machine. How did he expect this to all happen? Robin remembered the peculiar sense of irony infused in his words that only he could detect. Not only did he have to kill eleven other human beings, but two of them were his friends- all to become God? It seemed as cruel to him as sending a dog into a biscuit factory and clipping a shock collar to its neck, so that every time it went outside of its predetermined boundary, it would send him straight back to where he was before- a miserable depressing corner. This whole 'game' disgusted him.

It was nine o'clock on Thursday morning, and Robin and Spencer were sitting inside the cozy, overly-priced, French inspired cafe, Le Chet Fous waiting for Mona, who was currently MIA. Because of the previous day's events, the three had agreed to form an alliance to try to gain an upper hand in this battle royale. It was Mona's idea to meet up to discuss the plans, but she was late- again.

"Robin are you even listening to me?" Spencer said, tapping the shoes again.

Spencer bunched her ash-blonde hair and gathered it into a ponytail, securing it with a large, sky blue butterfly clip. When she wasn't busy blabbing away about fashion or school, she was actually sort of cute. He thought he detected a hint of mango and guava combing from her over the faint coffee smell that wafted around the room. Mango and guava was his favorite scent and taste. The scent made Spencer seem less planned and calm and almost simple, something he was pretty sure she never was. Spencer was the girl that would whine about not studying for finals and would end up getting the best grade in class plus finding a hundred dollar bill on the street and would turn it in only to find that no one had claimed it. He could almost taste the sweet and savory of the two fruits combined, in an explosion of flavor. The last time he had tried them was when he went to Brazil with his mom and dad two years ago for summer vacation. He'd do anything just to do that all over again. It made him feel awkward to think of past memories like that. All of a sudden, Spencer's perfume seemed bitter to him. He preferred her usual Coco, designer, super-genius, cookie cutter Spencer.

"Um, hello?" Spencer waved her hand in front of Robin's face.

"S-Sorry." Robin stammered.

"I get the feeling you haven't been listening." She closed her magazine.

"No I have." Robin said reassuringly even though he hadn't paid the slightest bit of attention. Every time he had tried to listen to her, his brain wandered to more pressing topics. Like the clincher of a death match that he was now in or that his mother was overseas possibly negotiating with terrorists, unbeknownst to her.

"Have you heard anything from Mona yet?" Spencer asked in between sips of her caramel macchiato.

Robin reached into the pocket of his denim jeans and pulled out his diary. No new messages. An air of relief. The only messages that could be seen were just of local news and common misplacings'. Nothing of importance or death predictions. Robin let out a sigh that he had apparently been holding for a while.  
"Nope."

Spencer opened her mouth to speak but then shut it.

Robin looked at her in curiosity. "What?"

Spencer broke off a tiny piece of chocolate dipped biscotti and placed it into her mouth. "It's nothing. Probably not the best time."

A cat clock hanging on the cream colored wall swung back and forth several beats. Robin counted six. "You can tell me. I-if you want to."

"It's just that," Spencer paused to recollect her thoughts, pursing her red glossed lips. "What do you think of Mona?"

Robin blinked. "What do you mean, 'What do I think of Mona'?" He ran his fingers through his jet black hair.

Spencer dabbed at the corner of her mouth. "It's just that I don't know what to think of her. That's all." She waved her hands in front of her face smiling. "I didn't mean anything by it."

Robin nodded casually. He guessed that she was just as concerned about this ordeal as he was. It was frightening to say the very least. He didn't blame her for questioning Mona. Boredom did always cause the mind to wander aimlessly.

Robin stood up stretching his arms and walked over to the counter. "Do you, by chance have any crayons?"

A red headed waitress with freckles sprinkled across her face, gave him a dumbstruck look but still reached into the podium and handed him two packets of crayons. Robin could see Spencer leaning over, trying to listen, out of the corner of his eyes. "Thank you!" He turned and proceeded back to their red cushioned booth.

"What was that about?" Spencer asked crossing her arms. Robin handed her a bundle and a napkin from the dispenser. She shot him a look that could've melted the polar caps.

Robin held his hands up in defense. "I just thought that while we were waiting, we could draw. It beats staring at each other."

"Yeah I guess." She dug her nails into the plastic. Three colors, red, blue, and yellow, fell onto the table with a small thud. She bit her lip. "What should we draw?"

"Hmm," He had never thought about that. "Give me a minute."

"You know, you're unusually talkative." Spencer pointed out with her red crayon.

"Maybe I'm always like this." Robin shrugged. He could feel her eyes him.

"Psh. I highly doubt that."

Robin's head shot up. Her face was smirking, however her expression was hard to read. She plucked a blue crayon that was lying in front of her drink. She began scribbling on a picture of that one girl that seemed to be all over everything. "I never asked you," she began. "About this forming a team and what not."

"Mmhmm." Robin said a little too quickly. "I guess it's better for us to work together then hate each other right?"

"Interesting." Spencer nodded and moved her hand to her chin. Her eyes gleamed but then turned serious. "Would you kill your friends, if it meant making your wishes come true? Say bringing back your father?"

Smoke from outside drifted in as the door opened. It made his stomach roil. Robin swallowed. She was trying to mess with him. He would give anything to see his dads face again. If his father were there, his mother wouldn't have to work so hard. Life would be the same again. But... Killing another life would be pointless. Losing a life to get back a life... He would never wish this suffering upon anyone. "And what if I'm not?" He challenged meekly, picking at the wrapper of a yellow crayon.

Spencer stared back fiercely. "Could you die for someone?" The words rolled out of her mouth so nonchalantly, Robin almost forgot their sinister depths.

"That's a tough question." Robin said looking down at the checkered table cloth. He fiddled with the napkin between his legs. Spencer was scribbling something down, waiting for his answer. He honestly didn't know if he could die for someone. "So far the questions you've asked me are synonymous. Could you die for someone and could you kill your friends if it meant fulfilling your wishes? Both would leave someone alone. If you killed for life, wouldn't that be counterproductive?" Robin looked up to see Spencer's expression unchanged. It was still icy. The way she drew, looking up every now and then, made it look like she was trying to distance herself from her own provoking questions. What was her true intention?

"Hmm," Spencer stuck out her lip. "That's a well thought out answer. I think there's something you need to realize before you can understand those words." She paused, but a response from Robin would have ruined it. "You seek eternal breath, that's why you are in this Game, but why do you want to live? No matter your intentions, pure or evil, nothing can change if you die here. Becoming God is an elaborate plot for becoming evil. That's why you need to figure this out as soon as possible. Whose side are you on?"

Robin shivered in his seat. Her inhaled through his nose with his fists clenched. Spencer's intentions were to help him see reality. The truth is that he wouldn't win but he would sure would try. Robin lifted his head slowly. "After my dad past away, I became depressed. I understand that I can never bring him back, which was what got me into this mess in the first place. I want to live to change my fate. I want to see my mothers face smile again. I want to help those like me. I may not be strong or smart but everything will go right for me. If it means saving a life, then I will dial back all my pain. Now, back to you. Why did you come here? If its as you say, then its possible to overcome the impossible. That's why I'm here. I want to live." Robin found himself at a loss of breath. His sudden words had surprised both of them.

"Wow." Her face twisted into a wry then genuine smile. "I guess I made a good choice then." She moved her left hand which was covering her drawing. It was a boy. Robin wasn't surprised that it was good. After all she was perfect.

"In what?" A line appeared between his eyebrows as he scrunched them.

Upon closer inspection, the boy had messy hair colored with blue. His eyes were victorious, glowing with a red flame. He was seated on large, yellow outlined throne. It was exceptional for being drawn in under a minute with three crayons. A realization struck him. Spencer had drawn him. There was even a faint scar in light red on his left cheek. He had gotten it when he fell down a hill when he was snowboarding with some friends over winter vacation, three years ago. It was like she had been watching him this whole time. It felt, wrong somehow.

"In my love."

_**Author's Note: **_So. This made me laugh.

_"Robin are you even listening to me?"_ Is not correct according to my laptop. The correct version is: _"Robin is you even listening to me?"._ I might just be a failure at grammar, but that doesn't sound right to me. Review! I'd love it!


	3. Chapter 3

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Future Diary or any references.**_

"In my love."

"Y-y-you're what?" Robin stuttered in a panicked, high pitched voice. He felt heat spread across him in tingles.

"Hm?" Spencer turned her head as if she said something completely normal. "Oh sorry. I meant that I'm in love with your mindset. It's so simple minded. I'm almost jealous."

"Oh." Robin muttered, trying to contain his composure and his heart beat. He felt a bit disappointed. He reached awkwardly in box like movements for his phone, that was on the table next to the napkin dispenser.

"Who is it?" Spencer asked, reopening her magazine to finish coloring over a picture of Miley Cyrus and that guy from the Hunger Games. She completely blacked out her but circled his face in red crayon.  
She was such a kid. Robin looked down at his phone.

"It's Mona. And it's a blank text." How do you send a blank text? Robin thought that he was seeing things because of his recent spike in temperature. His eyes squinted trying to see the screen.

Spencer raised an arched eyebrow. "What? Let me see it." By let me see it, she meant give it to me. Spencer reached across the table, almost knocking over a glass of water.

"Careful! You almost knocked it over." Robin grabbed the glass and moved it out of her vicinity.

Spencer shot him a look that said to 'shut up or that water will be on your head'. She began tapping the screen.

"What are you doing?" Robin asked worried about the fate of his phone.

"Nothing." Spencer said with the flick of her wrist making her S initialed charm bracelet chime.

"Shouldn't you be calling Mona?" Robin snapped the end of a blue crayon in half, anxiously. He assumed that it was his. Spencer glanced at him and began dialing Mona. She held a single unpainted nail into the air.

"Mon," Spencer began but stopped midway. Her face read emotionless, listening to whatever was on the other end of the call. Spencer's eyes widened. "We'll be right there." She whispered this in a half panicked half shocked voice. After observing all of Spencer's possible facial expression, the ditzy blonde was his favorite. This one was weird and unfitting.

"What is it?" She pressed the end button, tossing it to Robin.

"I think Mona may be in trouble."

"What? Why?"

"Last night she found two diary holders. I think they're onto her trail."  
They both stood up, sprinting for the door. "Meet me at the abandoned zoo."

_**Chapter 3**_

Viva la Drew

"Are we there yet?" An annoyed Drew Piper grunted, adjusting the strap of her black camisole.

"This is weird. They should've been here by now." The young boy who had approached Drew earlier that morning, named Wyatt, sniveled into his hands. The duo had been walking for an unspecified "someone" for three hours. Drew never had realized how big the town actually was. She wouldn't have been surprised if the map of the town resembled a bowl of spaghetti. Poor planning equals mass succession, after all. Drew slumped over to a nearby bench, that looked like it needed a fresh coat of paint. Not that the coloring was bad. In fact, it was Drew's favorite color of dark blue. But it had some things written on it that she preferred to never have to think of. . . Ever.

"Who exactly are we looking for?" Drew slid her butt over the writing to spare the poor boys innocence.

He raised an eyebrow at her action but sat down to her left. Wyatt shook his unkempt, shaggy, white hair. "I told you already. The third building on Snow Street."

Drew suppressed every urge to strangle this kid. "For the last freaking time," she began, her voice slowly rising with every syllable. "We have been past Snow Street three damn times! There is no third building!" She added air quotes around the last sentence for added effects. Nothing like old school back-sassing a ten year old. "Are you sure you know where you're going?" Wyatt nodded staring passionately up at her. Drew whistled. "Fine. But we're taking a break first. Why don't you tell me about these people. Since I am the heroine at this hour."

Wyatt flinched. He stared off vacantly at a passing ice cream cart. A meek smile began to form when the cart began to hum the anthem of children everywhere. "I-I don't have to tell you." This brat was proving to be more of a challenge than expected. Maybe engaging him in conversation was not a wise mule. An idea formed in Drew's head as the man began handing out strawberry cones to a group of toddlers and their mothers. If she couldn't rely on him to say anything then she would just have to play dirty.

Her eyes scanned the cart then to Wyatt then back to the cart. "You want one? You must be hungry after all that walking, right?" Drew chuckled inwardly. Kids were easy to break.

Wyatt's violet eyes hardened. "I want to get going. I'm, I'm late." He bent down and retied his worn dirt red converse.

Drew tapped a finger to her mouth. "You certainly weren't in a hurry three hours ago. You know I have half a mind to ditch you. Someone should've taught you some social skills. Because this is atrocious." Everything she said was true. Wyatt looked ready to cry or beat the crap out if something. She didn't know. Those two looks confused her. "Well?"

His face fell into the collar of his worn Polo shirt. He started hesitantly. "I'm trying to find these people I met a few days ago. They said that they could help me." Wyatt laced his scabbed fingers together, elbows resting on his lap. At least he wasn't ready to beat down someone. The little things like that in life made Drew happy in a weird way. Wyatt reached into his pocket and pulled out a navy blue notebook with a small pen. He flipped through several pages. Finally settling on one.

"What's that?" Drew inquired.

Wyatt held the notebook in front of her face. "It's the 12 deities of Rome. I had to learn about them in school." What school made ten year olds learn about the complete history of Roman gods? The last time she had checked, ten year olds were learning about Indians and cowboys. The writing created a vivid imagery of each one. She was with out a doubt jealous of this kid. Kids...

"You must be some sort if genius. I couldn't do that if I tried." That black strap was bothering her again. She maintained the impulse to check her phone which was now buzzing in her pocket. That's right. Her Dead End was approaching.

"Are you gonna answer that?" Wyatt asked, jotting down a doodle alien.

"Answer wha-" Drew began then stopped. How had he known that her phone was ringing? It was on the lowest possible setting for vibrate.

"Your phone?" Wyatt said glancing down at his notebook. Walking around at five in the morning, a message about her own electrocution, and now a ten year old medium? Drew knew suddenly exactly what was going on. This boy was a diary holder. She had to end this or be, well shocked to death. The irony was killing her. Shocked to death? Because this boy was a diary holder and ten years old? Oh how déclassé, Yukki.

Drew stood up without a sound. "Miss Drewmmf!" She had slapped her hands over his mouth, pulling him into a nearby alley. She slammed the boy's body against the red brick wall.

"How dare you!" Drew hissed into his ear. He struggled under her grasp which was now around his throat.

"What?" Wyatt managed to muster. He was straining to keep his head upwards.

"I know all about your plan to kill me. You were trying to get on my good side so you could kill me eh? I know you're a diary holder. And those people are non-existent. You think your so clever. But guess what? You just messed with the wrong assassin buddy." She for what ever reason lessened on her hold. Probably out of pity.

Tears that were streaking down Wyatt's face halted. The fear that once consumed his purple stare switched to confusion. "You're a," he began. Drew moved him down an inch. She did have some respect. "A diary holder?" His eyes were as wide as saucers.

"Don't play dumb with me! I received my Dead End thanks to my Head Start Diary that tells me my Dead End two to five hours in advance."

Wyatt stopped struggling. "Then kill me." The words pierced Drew's ears like a gun shot. He was actually giving up? It was pitiful. His expression seemed like this had happened before. She tightened her hold.

"Kill you? Do you have any idea what the hell you're saying?" Drew stared into his eyes. They were expressionless. "You're supposed to put up a fight! You can't just let me kill you!"

"You can. No one else has any problem with it." The once calm boy began shaking violently. The real tears began flowing from his unique hue of eyes. "You're not the first to say this to me. Guess what? I don't want to be in this! I'd rather die than endure this anymore. I'm not as strong as you adults and never will be!"

Drew released him. He thudded to the ground, coughing. "What do you mean? Has someone done this before?" She observed the boy. Her handprints had already begun to bruise. All of a sudden, she felt dizzy and missing. She had just beaten the shit out of an innocent boy for no reason. Wyatt gazed up at her. His lack of responsiveness spoke for him.

"I met Miss Muru Muru after my parents had another fight. I don't remember what happened but I ran away. They were arguing over how much of a freak I was. I wanted to make them happy. That's all." Drew's heart clinched with pain. That was heartbreaking. His voice seemed shattered. Somehow she understood him. Instead of finishing him like she had been taught, she did something unexpected. She threw her arms around him and pulled him into a hug. The tiny boy trembled. He looked back up at her in shock.

"I'm sorry." Another something she never said. This time she actually sincerely meant it. "I want to help you but I'm gonna need your trust."

"Fine." Wyatt panted through sniffles.

Drew reached into her pocket for her message of impending doom.

Wyatt wasn't the only one was shocked. She was fried inside out.

**10:10 AM Happy **_**End **_

_**Author's Note:**_Thank you all for reading! Review if you want. A little shorter then it should've been but oh well. Happy 12/12/12! Who else stayed up until 12:12 to make a wish? I took a screen shot but missed out on my wish… Always next 88 years or something like that. Oh, is this making sense so far?


	4. Chapter 4

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Future Diary or ANY of the references…**_

**Chapter 4**

Cute Doesn't Always Mean Practical...

"Hey watch it!" Spencer screamed.

A lady in a hot pink Juicy track suit walking a Chihuahua jumped out of her way. After receiving Mona's call, her and Robin had ran the Polar Trail, which was a four mile run through the city's art district. They were at mile three and were cutting across a field to get to the zoo's back fence. It probably wasn't the safest thing running around on a secluded trail with a terrorist and who knows what else on the loose. However if Mona hasn't been a complete dumbass and had just finished that Drew assassin chick then they wouldn't have to fear that possible threat. She had thrown a knife at her. It was perfectly normal to be paranoid right?

Spencer froze as they came to the fence. The place had allegedly been purchased by the local community center but it seemed more trouble then it was worth. Vines were growing twisted and improperly everywhere. She climbed to the top, forgetting about Robin who was lagging behind in a zombie like trance.

He hadn't said anything the whole way over. Then again why did she expect anything different? Robin never talked unless forced. Come to think of it, did he have any friends? He used to be such a sweet kid. They used to talk all the time in AP geometry, which he was almost better at. She loved that he never cared about looking perfect, that he was a little bit dorky, and that he wasn't afraid to be who he was.  
After his father's passing everything about him became muted, like he was a different person. Everything that reached out and grabbed her attention just disappeared. It was amazing how someone could change so drastically in such short amount of time. It really was a shame. Spencer had been meaning to ask him about it but you can't build Rome in a day. He probably wouldn't answer her anyways.

Robin kicked the red brick wall. His blue-black hair was lightly blowing in the wind. "Do you see Mona?" He shrugged as if to say 'You probably don't, but I guess I should talk to you'.

Spencer brushed a piece of her hair out of her eyes. She felt powerful standing at the very top. "She's probably deeper inside."

"Oh." He said in a meek voice. "I guess um,"

Spencer sighed. She had never actually talked to him in school since, but he was definitely... Off. "How about for starters, you climb up here."

Robin nodded. There was a determined look on his face. In one swift motion he was standing right next to her. He grasped her right shoulder for balance, which in turn knocked her off the wall onto her butt. The piece of strawberry gum she was chewing spewed out of her mouth. "I'm so sorry!" He jumped down and offered her a hand. His face looked honestly apologetic.

"It's fine." She huffed sourly. "Damn that hurt." And would probably be sore in the morning.

"Should I call Mona?" Robin pulled his white phone out of the pockets of his black jeans.

"No. We need to make as little noise as possible." Her Blackberry began to ring. It echoed across the vast expansion. Her hand shot into her bag, hitting the mute button which was already on. Her hand lifted shakily up. Her screen darted straight to the message.

**10:20 Dead End**

Spencer felt completely numb. It didn't even specify how. She bit the inside of her cheek. They had to find Mona. As of right now they were both vulnerable. No weapons, no help. They were trapped. She plunged it back into her bag.

"What is it?" Robin asked. His face looked like a lost puppy. He crossed his arms over his chest.

"Nothing. I forgot to turn my mute on. My parents were just wondering where I was." Spencer forced a smile. He seemed to buy it, nodding his head and began walking straight ahead, following a sign pointing to the aquarium. She was unsure if her lie was unintentional or not. Right now she couldn't think properly. Why couldn't someone just make this easier? It would me a blessing to wake up one day, receive a Dead End flag and brush it off like a piece of dust. But she was sure that there was no way of beautifying your possible demise. Her head suddenly started to ache.

The sky, despite it being close to noon, was purplish. She ran along the railings to the old exhibits. Some of the old signs were still up. They passed signs like The O-mazing Ocelot or Kuddly Koalas and even more poorly thought out puns.

Wind nipped at the back of her neck. Curling her hair this morning was also a bad choice on her part. The aquarium was just ahead. The black tinted windows reflected eerily. Spencer shuddered. While the zoo was still open, she had hated the aquarium. It had a wonderful assortment of colorful fish that danced in gorgeous circles around the selection of sea plants that she didn't know the names of. One day while she was admiring a cute almost glowing fish, the piece of seaweed moved, smirked at her, and ate the fish in one gulp. She had recurring nightmares about it ever since. A few years after was she told that eels also inhabited the area. Evil bastards...

Robin opened the door. The lights were on. Wait. Why were there lights if it was shut down? "I guess the Y put those up?" He pushed through the door.

"I guess." Spencer said, flicking her hand. Right now she didn't care who had set up the lights. She just wanted to find Mona before 10:20. They had fifteen minutes. "I so hope she's in," She began but was interrupted by a sudden crash. A door slammed shut in the distance.

"Think that's her?" Robin's normally blue-black eyes were a shade of teal. They were gleaming against the already lit room. Spencer wished her eyes would do that. So pretty...

"Either that or we just walked in on a robbery." She smiled, attempting to lighten the mood. Upon closer inspection her feet had a thin layer of dirt on them because of her sandals which she would be burning later. All of a sudden she hated them.

Robin's face scrunched up. "Robbery?" His eyebrow raised in confusion.

Spencer kicked at the ground. Well that fell flat. "Never mind. Let's go." She motioned for him to follow her.

Click Click Click

Yet again her damned shoes were ruining everything. She didn't even bother with the clasp as she ripped her pair of strappy sandals from her feet and chucked them against the wall. Take that! Robin blinked but didn't say anything. Instead of feeling victorious she felt lonely. Maybe she should put them back on? She shook her head. Not the time for that. Robin was staring at her.

"What?" Spencer barked. "They were too loud."

"You're weird, you know?" Robin added teasingly. She was sure that she was smiling like an idiot. Wow. She hadn't heard that in forever.

"Totally." Spencer stuck out her thumb. "Weird is cool!" Her mind mentally abused her for that one. 'Weird is cool?' How lame could she get?

The duo ran into the diminishing light. Aquariums always darkened as you got further in. Their footsteps echoed throughout the building. Finally after several balance losses later, they arrived at the real door. The first one had been a tease to reveal that their was another flight of stair to run down. A sign that read 'No flash photography' was plastered across the cool gray door in red letters. It reminded Spencer of apples. Hmm. Good choice Y.

Robin leaned himself on the metal part of the door and forced it open. Instead of seeing empty tanks and sunlight from the seal exhibit, ocean blue light surrounded the room. The empty tanks were nowhere in sight. A large one that led to a huge walkthrough tube took its place. Almost like it was for... Wait, how in the world could the freaking YMCA afford a huge ass aquarium? A zoo for that matter. She had so many questions, but the one that caught her attention most of all was where was Mona? Spencer turned her head every direction. She was definitely not in this room.

Robin's mouth gaped open in disbelief. "We have to go through that thing?" He gestured at the humongous tube. Was it just her or did something just swim by?

"Mmhmm." She muttered weakly. Things like this creeped her out. Especially under the circumstances. The freezing cold AC made it that more eerie. It certainly was a, um creative place for someone to be hiding out in.

Robin took a step onto the translucent floor then stopped. "Ladies first?" He ran his fingers through his hair like he always did when he was nervous.

Like hell she was going first. Her hands balled into fists and fell out of instinct onto her hips. "Oh please." Spencer pushed him forward. Apparently he was even more of a klutz then herself. Robin's shoulders thudded against the glass. It made a louder sound then it should have.

"Did you hear that?" Spencer bit the tip of her nail lightly. Great. Now she was hearing things.

She could see the whites of his eyes. He nodded with his mouth hanging open. A shaky finger raised and pointed behind her.

Was this a joke? Nothing was in here... Maybe it was Mona! Just in time too. Spencer spun around on the ball of her foot. "Mon-" she started. However it was unfortunately not Mona. Her knees buckled and carried her to the ground. She wouldn't have been surprised if she just died of a heart attack. Oh. And she had ten minutes left. A menacing, gigantic great white shark stared back at them. It seemed to be saying 'If I can't eat you, I'll just scare you to death'.

Spencer kicked her body back and latched herself onto Robin. She buried her face into his soft black hoodie. He did the same to her. Which surprised her. She all of a sudden became self-conscious. Should she have worn a different shirt? Was her perfume too strong or not strong enough? They held there for several moments that felt like forever. Normally, she would've just let this go on but this wasn't the time to be a coward. Her blood burned in her veins. Sharks be damned, they were finding Mona so she could beat the crap out of her.

Nine minutes left.

Spencer stood up fast. Her head felt dizzy. She began to run. Robin followed behind her like her greyhound, Betsey did. He even looked lost like she did. The phrase 'lost puppy' fit him.

Her bare feet pounded against the glass. Robin ran beside her, both of their hearts thudding inside their chests. The shark had long since abandoned stalking them. It was now swimming right along with them. Spencer was fairly sure that normal sharks didn't do that. Never would she go near another aquarium in her life. Shamu is a complete lie. As they neared the tunnels end, the shark turned and swam off.

"Who has time to make this?" Robin breathed heavily. She had to agree. Whoever made this was either richer then a drug lord or had no social life. Both were good options.

Spencer set her foot onto the start of the new room. The ground was chilled. Even with no shoes, it echoed through the abysmal area. Robin's breathing seemed to have stopped. She took one step in front and winced in pain. Sharp shards of something instantly drew blood as she steadied herself and willed herself to move forward. Across the room a door opened then shut. She whipped her head around.

"Robin?" She whispered. Her body started trembling. No answer. "Ro-" a hand slapped itself onto her mouth. She flew backwards onto the glass, landing with a crunch. Spencer kicked with all her might. The person temporarily let up. Everything seemed to be fine. What had just happened?

A freezing sensation pierced her body. All traces of oxygen fled from her lungs. Spencer pawed for air. She was underwater. Through the glass she could see a digital clock that read 10:19. This was it. She was going to die. One minute left. Blood flowed out from her various cuts, staining the water. Holy shit. She wasn't just going to drown, but was going to be eaten alive. Now she knew how Dori felt when Marlin hit her nose with those goggles.  
P. Sherman, 42 Wallaby Way, Sydney?

Bubbles fled from her open mouth, then darkness.

_**Author's Note: Hey! Not really much to say except that I freaking love Finding Nemo. Thank you to all of you who read! Please review! I'd love it. **_


	5. Chapter 5

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Future Diary or ANY of its references.**_

"Muru Muru!" Yuki's voice boomed throughout the room. Muru Muru's small set shoulders tensed.

"Y-yes?" She hoped that she didn't sound as guilty as she thought. Her tattered old manga resided in front of her face. If he couldn't see her face then he would never know of the completely harmless changes she had made.

"Care to explain the electric flag Drew received?" Curses. Foiled again. It was like he didn't trust her judgement, her amazing judgement. Honestly, Yuki was so boring now. Not that he was interesting at all. Yuno was far more complex and layered. It fascinated her to no end watching her unpredictable string of mishaps. Never would she have predicted that she actually would've fallen for boring, spineless Yuki. Even as God, he still was the same lovesick teenager that he had been when he had assumed the position 1000 plus years ago. This was eternal punishment.

"You see, your excellency, I had a good cause." She didn't really have a cause. She had thought that it would be amusing watching the big, bad assassin freak out like bipolar five year old. After seeing what she almost did to that Wyatt kid, meddling had proved to be a completely amusing past time.

"What would that be?" Yuki challenged, his voice laced with slight intrigue. Since proposing the new world, he had seemed more human like. He had even given Robin remnants of his old diary. That boy probably was his favorite. Muru Muru hated to admit that she actually liked him too. Robin seemed so much like Yuki but with a creative twist. He seemed incapable of winning but somewhere something gleamed dimly that said that he wasn't what everyone thought. In fact, his whole team seemed capable of so much more. She wouldn't be surprised to find out one of the three won. With that being said, Drew and Wyatt still seemed like worthy adversaries. Smart and lethal was a good combination and strategy. Muru Muru couldn't wait to see the other diary owners finally act.

"I just thought that it would be sad to see the weakest link go first." That actually seemed half decent.

"Weakest link huh?" Yuki seemed unamused with her story.

"Yes! That poor boy! Fifth had just figured out his Diary! I couldn't let someone so overpowered end him like that." Muru Muru smiled at her story. Still great even being created on a whim. "Besides, now they're a strong team! Might even give that team 1211 a run for their money."

Yuki looked away from her and back at his newly created globe for New World. He was so unoriginal. Yuki could've made a complete new species with new ideals and motives, yet he stuck with the same race. The only difference between worlds being that different people invented different products and so on. He didn't seem to grasp the idea of the power that he possessed. "Fine."

"Now I have a question for you." Muru Muru placed her hand to her chin and paced like they did in those detectives did when deducing the culprit. "Why did Eleventh and Second receive a flag without a cause for death?" Yuki wasn't going to get away with something as big as that. Since he noticed her slight alteration, it was natural that she pointed out his own.

Yuki paused. He must've been choosing his words carefully. "The Holder's are not using the full capacity of their Diaries. Instead of using the alternate method of loss, they stick with the savage and cruel one. Also, they need to be more careful."

Alternate method? Muru Muru suddenly remembered all the deaths that took place in Second World. The only deaths that had been slightly different had been Third and Sixth... She knew exactly what he had meant.

Nice choice, Amano.

_**Chapter 5**_

The Genius, The Problem, And the Incoherent

**10:20 Spencer Lates, Dead  
**  
Mona shoved her Galaxy into the pocket of her black trench coat. It had taken Spencer and Robin a little over an hour to figure out that she was missing. Mona had known that teaming up with them was risky but she would never have thought that one would be dropping out so early. At worst, she had thought that they would be the sixth or seventh out. Not first. How embarrassing. If that flag had been sent to herself with no cause, she would have gone ballistic from rage. As she thought about it, how could someone die without a cause? That seemed melancholic as well as physically impossible. Even the terrorist bombers had a cause, a crappy one, but a cause. No one could die without a cause.

Mona's footsteps rang out in the pitch black hallway of the underground aquarium. Someone had been doing some major renovations to the place. It certainly wasn't the Y. They couldn't afford this. This wasn't the time to be worrying about the fish. She had much bigger problems.

"Run while you can, Second. This is your Dead End." Despite explaining to him that she hadn't received a notice, he continued to pursue her.

Earlier that morning, Mona's Diary known as the Secret Diary, had given her information as to the location of a Diary Holder. She followed the coordinates only to be jumped by a psycho who thought he was some kind of cowboy. He was slow, stupid, and a hazard to her health. Before she could even flash her knife, he had came at her with a freaking rapier. Who even used those anymore?

Mona's silver Tiffany bracelet jingled against her wrist. Hoards of colorful ocean fish passed her as she sprinted forward. Being confined to this area would mean bad business for herself. The echo from his black boots echoed behind her. The man was a good minute away.

It was 10:18. Mona still had some time left to find Robin and Spencer. It still bugged her that it specify her cause of death. Unless...

Mona rounded a corner into yet another pitch black room. The only light was a light blue glow from more exhibits. She wondered what was in it. A splash came from the a little whole in the floor. Someone thudded against the wall.

"Hello?" A voice called, confused. It was Robin. Man, they had bad timing.

Mona sprang forward, grabbing his waist. She knocked him to the ground, slapping her hand over his mouth. "Shh!" She hissed. "Do you want someone to find us?"

Robin peeled her hand off. "Where's Spencer?" He pulled out his phone. The light reflected dimly. His face widened in horror. He pushed Mona off and ran to the blue port hole-ish thing. Mona's shoulders thudded against something. The bright lights turned on. They hurt her eyes.

"The hell are you doing? You want to get us killed?" Mona ran over and punched him.

Robin seemed unaffected as he leaned over and jumped into the cool water. Bits of it hit Mona's face. It was refreshing. She couldn't see any fish in the exhibit. What was in that aquarium that made Robin terrified. Maybe he was scared of seals? That's why there was a walk in tunnel. Everyone loved seals.

Mona walked into the tunnel. It was a very expansive set. Seals didn't need that much room or did they? And for being mammals, there was a surprising lack of actual land. Maybe this was a dolphin exhibit. But who could afford this? So many unanswered questions. She looked down at the see through floor. Robin was slapping the water trying to reach Spencer. A huge blob of gray swam towards them. Holy. Crap. Is that?

A bullet whizzed past her face and hit a wall. Luckily it had missed both her face and the tank. Mona pulled out her dagger. Knife vs. Gun. Not good odds. For now she would have get out ASAP. Underneath the glass, Robin was attempting to pull Spencer out before the shark did. Mona suddenly feared for both of them.

"Ahem," The masked man coughed. "Where are your manners little girl?"

Mona didn't respond. She kept staring intensely at Robin and Spencer. That must've been hell. Why didn't her death get specified if she was going to get eaten or drown.

**10:19**

The man looked to be around 30. His features were sharp and striking. From what she could see that is. He wore a black sombrero and his clothing coordinated with it. Meaning all black from head to toe. He looked like a mysterious hero from an old western movie.

Boom! He had shot downwards at the duo. "All eyes shod be on me! Ricardo El Diez!" He struck an awkward pose. Mona couldn't describe it. This was what she was running from? Pathetic Mona. Absolutely pathetic. "As you can see, I missed on purpose. But for future reference you really should pick up your trash before you leave."

"What?" Mona replied, slightly dumbfounded. What on earth was he talking about.

Ricardo gestured to two phones lying on the ground. He cocked his gun. Mona finally understood the flag. Her phone would have gotten destroyed. 10:20. Mona used every muscle in her right arm and threw with all her might and concentration.

Ricardo's face twisted into a grim smile. It thoroughly creeped her out. She took a step back. Her knife had missed. "Nice try darling." Robin emerged from the opening with Spencer. Both gasping for air. Everything had happened so quickly that she hadn't even heard the gun shot. "But I think I'll save you for later." He waved his cape over his face and vanished into the darkness.

Mona felt all her bones turn to liquid. A large crack spread across the glass. It spread further and further. She muttered incomprehensible curses under her breath. How could she have missed? By now the crack had halfway reached the other end.

Water dripped off of her team mates. "Are you alright?" Robin panted.

Mona nodded. "I will be."

"What do you mean?" Robin asked, steadying himself. Water oozed out in sporadic gushes at a time.

Mona lifted a shaky finger to herself made obstacle. If that thing broke, they would drown or at least be swept away. Robin turned a shade paler then he already was. The shark had clearly lost interest in them and found interest the partially shattered wall. Spencer burst out laughing. A watered-down shade of pink covered her cheeks.

She was hysterical. The shark bumped the glass. Water exploded outwards. Their phones still lying on the cold floor. They couldn't die like this. It just wasn't possible. Fate seemed to be against her today.  
Maybe she shouldn't have gotten out of bed.

The shark swam off. Every muscle in her body seemed incapable of movement. Mona couldn't get past how she had caused this mess. This was a disgrace and a poor wave of bravery, but she would get them out alive. . . hopefully.

_**Author's Note: Yay! A new character! I made him have as little dialogue as possible for my events that you will soon see.**_


	6. Chapter 6

**I know not what the future holds, but I know who holds the future.**

**~Author Unknown**

_**Chapter 6**_

_**Snark Week**_

Robin dug his jagged nails into the palms of his hands, almost to the point of bleeding. Mona pounded furiously against the heavy door trying to attract the attention of anything. Spencer scampered to her feet and sloshed through the gushing water to the other side of the building. The well sized enclosure suddenly seemed claustrophobia inducing.

The frigid water slowly began to fill their shoes. It felt like liquid death just for them. Robin leaned against the wall, observing his diary. Mona slid her hands against the cold metal door and sank into the even colder water that lapped at the middle of her calf. Spencer made a final pound and followed suit.

Everyone was physically and mentally exhausted. It felt even worse knowing that his own fate was being held in his own two hands. He hated to admit that he had no idea how to use his diary. What use was it to him if he couldn't use it? Robin had half a mind to just toss it in the water and let it fizzle and die. Then at least it would be symbolic to his life. Not like being brutally murdered by a homicidal maniac was anymore meaningful then the other.

Mona twisted her white blonde hair around her finger. "Is this it?" She asked. For some reason it just seemed rhetorical. Several pregnant seconds went by before anyone answered.

"It's funny to me how careful we were and yet we still are going to be the first ones out." Spencer said looking and sounding especially glum.

No response came from either of them. It was painfully ironic at that. Out of all the plans and horrific scenarios they had run by, it felt like they were missing something... something huge. This thought had been tugging at the corner of his mind all day now. What were they missing? Attacks, defense, they really had covered everything. Had they?

Robin looked up blearily into the clear, bluish light that reflected from the water. He rubbed a piece of hair between his thumb and forefinger, thinking.

"You've been quiet for a while, Robin." Mona added, faux concerned. Every syllable sounded drenched with sarcasm. Her normally glistening, exotic dark green eyes looked to be dull and the color of moss or day old broccoli.

Robin eyed the oozing water and the random shark swimming in the distance. His sullen 'friends' crouched in opposite corners of the room. He really was going to die alone. He had such high hopes too.

Instead of curling in a ball, Robin was forced to stand to keep his phone dry. No new messages. All that was shown was about the shark or the water. Come to think of it, why hadn't he learned how to use it yet? Maybe he should ask Mona or Spencer, but then they'd think he was more of an idiot then he was sure they thought of him. But if he didn't ask, then he'd lose for sure...

"Do either of you know how to use your Diaries?" Robin stared at his soaked shoes.

Spencer didn't move. Mona picked at her caked hair. Even more awkward seconds passed and the water was now at their thighs.

"You mean you don't know either?" For a second Robin thought that she was staring at him but Spencer immediately looked away.

Robin nodded slowly and stared back in shock. The smartest girl, no, person he had ever met didn't even know? His ego felt relieved but his nerves intensified.

"I love it. This is team work guys." Mona added, sounding a bit too enthusiastic. "When we received our phones, what did Yukki tell you it was called?" Her overly calm demeanor vanished.

Robin thought for a moment. What did Yukki tell him? He never actually told him about anything. This whole experience seemed like a night mare. The only difference was that in his night mares, he always turned into jelly beans and was eaten by something chasing him.

Before he had time to speak, Spencer responded. "No. He only said that it had once belonged to someone else, I think."

Mona's pink lips spread into a smile/smirk. "You're lying."

Spencer's eyes widened then went back to normal size. "Care to fill me in? I mean since this is team work, Mon. You should tell us what your diary is."

"Oh, but you see, Spencer, I'm not the only one who hasn't filled you in. There are three if us, remember, Blondie?"

The life threatening aura in the room was now replaced by death glares from both girls. Robin didn't understand why girls argued like they did. This one was even more stupid because if Mona wasn't albino, she was without a doubt, blonde. Unless he was color blind, which according to Spencer was a huge possibility.  
He could almost see Yukki and Muru Muru laughing hysterically at him. What did he ever do to deserve this punishment?

"H-hey wait," Robin sputtered. "Let's not fight."

Both of them turned and glowered at him. It was like this was some huge inside joke that they hadn't bothered to clue him in on.

"We're not fighting." Mona explained. "We are merely deciphering without being on friendly terms."

"What the hell does that mean?" Robin asked, his temper was rising.

"Nothing. In case you haven't noticed, this isn't the time for philosophical debating." Spencer groaned, making a face to match.

Mona rolled her shoulders back and strutted the best she could through the churning water. She glowered at Spencer and checked her phone, seemingly nonchalant. "Did either of you text me? You know, as a joke?"

Spencer snickered. "Why?"

Mona abruptly shuffled nearest to the leaking glass. "I-it's nothing." She tapped the glass. "I hope our cell phones are waterproof."

Spencer's face contorted with rage and shock. "Are you trying to get us killed?"

In this whole ordeal, Robin hadn't said anything. Mona was Mona. Not an idiot. Spencer would never seem to understand that she loved yanking her chain. Although, if their phones were waterproof, there was that bastard of a shark to swim past. Frankly, he'd rather drown. Just a personal preference.

Robin felt his attention switch to the sun shining in. He could almost see people straining their necks to get an early glimpse of the dolphins that once resided here. Robin's brain unfortunately altered him back to the real world. Spencer and Mona had engaged themselves into a cat-fight. His neck craned. Was it his imagination or was someone really outside?

His iPhone lit up with Flight of the Bumblebees. His companions, if you could call them that, were still bickering. Goosebumps rose up his arms.

It read: Sorry for being so uncivil. Don't worry this isn't your end quite yet.  
Hint: check the door again.

"Can you give me a hand?" Robin asked, dazed. His knees felt ready to betray him any minute. He shifted through the water making no noise. It felt as if his legs were encased in the gross tasting blue jello. His shaking fingers finally touched the door's metal handle. Using every force left in his body, he rammed his shoulder against it. Instead of near breaking his shoulder, the door flew open, water pouring out, sweeping him away.

"I-I thought the door was locked.." Mona whispered. Robin suddenly had a problem believing her. Her track record wasn't an enviable one.

The three were swept out. Mona laughed giddily. Spencer looked like crying. But Robin felt unnerved. Who unlocked the door? Why? This all felt staged and wrong. Someone was watching them.

"Let's get out of here before they change their minds..."

* * *

"Miss Drew, give that back!" Wyatt wailed attempting to stretch his 4'9 sized body. After their emotional revelation, they had given all standard information to each other and went to someplace slightly more pleasant then an alley.

Wyatt was better known to her as an underachieving genius. He really was years above his age of ten, but his actions didn't seem to match. He acted much of what seemed like impulse. He frowned for a good ten minutes after Drew had apologized for beating him up, he still scowled in that annoying way only ten year old boys could do. This was fixed with a strawberry ice cream and a promise to see her diary. Yeah right. The ice cream was fine but she wasn't about to let anyone touch her Diary. Which is why she took his. She figured that she might as well figure out how his worked.

From what she could see, his Diary, an old notebook, read events exactly ten minutes before they were to happen. Not much time to do much with if he had to escape, but hey. To each their own. He seemed pretty proud of it so she decided to spare this kid's dream crushing for another day.

"If I give it back, someone might steal it. Like I did." Drew smiled, holding him back with one arm. He still reminded her of someone but she couldn't deduce who it was. Maybe a cousin that had punched her or had puked at an awkward time. Something like that.

"That's but fair. You promised to let me see your Diary," Wyatt whined. Drew paid no attention, flipping through his actual notes. He was a brilliant writer. Drew tried writing in high school, but gave up after seeing that writer's block did a number on her brain. Even then, she was no match for Wyatt. Wyatt Butler. It seemed to roll of the tongue easily. His name was perfect to be the newest Charles Dickens or J.K. Rowling. It was quirky, like him.

Wyatt sighed loudly. "Fine. Just give it back in five minutes." He paused. "Can we get something to eat in the mean time?" Wyatt scrunched his face into the best puppy dog face Drew had ever seen.

She shrugged. "Fine."

Drew and Wyatt walked three blocks over to a trendy diner called Dina's. A bell greeted them as the door opened. Old movie posters and playbills were plastered on the walls. When Drew was younger, this had been her favorite place to eat because someone had told her that all rising stars are there-something she wanted to be at the time.

She drummed her uncut nails on the podium waiting for someone to take them to her sears. A version of Where Is Love played softly through we'll hidden speakers. An old poster of The Lion King was still in the same place and condition that she had remembered it. She couldn't help but feel nostalgic.

Wyatt's violet eyes seemed even more vivid as he peeked around to see the whole area. His mouth formed into a giant O. "Are we really eating here, Miss Drew?"

Drew nodded. "Yeah. Don't call me Miss Drew. It makes me sound old."

"But you are old." Wyatt snickered good naturedly.

Drew felt a vein pop out on her neck. "I'm not old! I'm only 19!" She humphed and placed her hands on her hips. Her nondescript jeans and lemon yellow shirt looked ragged. She needed new clothes but she hated shopping so that was a pointless thought.

"Welcome to Dina's. Sorry for the wait. Follow me." A bored sounding teenage girl with a slight hunch led them to their tables. She gave them  
menus and left without saying anything.

"Order what you want. It's on me." Drew smiled, feeling victorious. She had always wanted to say that to someone.

"Cool! Thanks!" Wyatt flipped furiously through the menu. Watching him made it look like he was a kid if average intellect. There was one question that was bugging her about him though. Why did he trust her so easily? She had him in a chokehold and threatened to kill him, was he really that naïve? What if he was wrong about her? She could be on a mission to kill him (she wasn't) and he would never know. His face lit up like a Christmas tree every time he flipped a page. Maybe he was..

"Are y'all ready yet?" The rude waitress was back.

Wyatt nodded and pointed at a picture. The ebony haired waitress in return scribbled it down. "You want anything?" Drew couldn't stand her nasally fake southern accent.

"I'm alright."

"Ma'am we have strict policies to not let people just sit here." The waitress, apparently named Jane replied stoically.

Drew rolled her eyes. Was she kidding? "Fine then I'll have what he's having."

"Okay. Fine. Typical answer." Jane walked away smacking on a piece of gum. It disappointed her a bit to know that she was allowed to eat off the kid's menu... _Bitch._

"Why didn't you want anything?" Wyatt cocked his head. He really did look like a puppy.

"Not hungry." Right on cue, like it was taken straight out of a cheesy TV show, Drew's stomach growled.

"Right." Wyatt mused, unconvinced. "So your one of those girls, huh?"

"What do you mean by that?"

"One of those girls who diet and stuff. Mama used to do that. It was really annoying."

"I am not!" Drew hissed.

"Are too!" Wyatt smirked.

"I am not for the last time! People are staring!" And on cue again growl.

Wyatt tried visibly to contain his laughter but to no avail. "Your really funny!" He guffawed. His voice boomed throughout the crowded room. People were now for sure staring. All of a sudden amongst his spurts of laughter arise a sound that sounded slightly piggish.

"Was that a snort I heard?" Drew teased. Ah, the tables had been turned.

"N-no." Wyatt stuttered.

"Oink oink," Drew mimicked. The poor boy's face had turned very red. This was too easy.

"Knock it off!" Wyatt leaned over, almost knocking over his vintage Coca Cola glass.

"Aw, your so cute, wittle piggy." Before he could respond an official looking man that had a shiny head glared at the two of them. Her insults ceased immediately. He looked peeved and embarrassed. It left a strange feeling in the air.

There was an opening that she couldn't miss. "Why do you trust me so much?" She instantly regretted saying that.

He shrugged. "Because you don't seem like a bad person."

How could she not seem like a bad person? She had beaten the crap out of him not even an hour ago, for goodness sakes! Drew laughed at pain. She usually hated children. Hell, she obviously had no problem attacking them.

"And I know I'm going to win!" Wyatt beamed. Drew grinned at his pure little boy act, which she was starting to think wasn't really an act. Only someone so innocent could make light of killing someone.

Drew didn't say anything. She couldn't say anything. It had only been forty minutes and she even wanted him to win. He deserved it...

"I hope you win too..."

**Author's Note: According to my phone's dictionary, a snark is an invisible creature... Just some food for thought. I woke up this morning and wanted to kill myself because school starts back up. Ugh. I have crafts though! Anyways, review please! I'd love it! Thanks for reading! :3**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

New Perspective

Wednesday evening, Mona puckered her pink lips and attempted to fake a sex bunny expression. She recoiled and ran her fingers through her shoulder length white blonde hair and twisted it around her finger.

After last week's traumatizing experience, the three of them held little to no contact. This bugged her because someone had beaten them to the punch. Of the twelve diary holders, she knew four; one being herself and two her comrades. Mona couldn't help but feel on edge. If they hadn't drowned first, their phones would've been wrecked, thus killing them anyways.

Then there was the fact that she knew nothing about her diary and how it worked. She had been meaning to contact Yuki or Muru Muru, but she always got a bad feeling about it. Her face always burnt and her skin pricked. She constantly got bad vibes from the two.

Mona drummed her fingers over the rhinestone case that covered her phone. If anyone had asked her, she had never once seen a message from her diary. This worried her to no end.

Her rolling chair skidded across her bedroom floor and lightly collided with her creamy white desk. Mona tapped at the on button of her computer with her foot and turned back to her phone. The keyboard illuminated as she maniacally flipped through her archive of messages. There was one message in particular that was specifically unsettling.

"Cecelia  
Since you seem slightly capable, I'll give you a hint. Collect the faces and you'll know."

This was great that her enemy gave out her name and everything, but she didn't give out her name. Her phone did and there was no number with it. Maybe it was a glitch. Now that she had thought about it, there was one particular week that was fuzzy. Had she accidentally typed this? Maybe it wasn't even about the survival game. Collect the faces? Did she want her to go all slasher and take someone's face? Have mercy. She was just one girl for goodness sakes. She felt like her brain was ready to disown her at any moment now. Luckily, the whirring noise her computer made when it finished loading came on and interrupted her scrambled thought process.

She typed in her password that she came up with in fourth grade and hit the enter key. Her monitor flickered as she opened the tangled web of the Internet. The shiny, new keyboard clicked under her fingers. The feeling of typing made her happy for some reason. It felt like the better part of middle school where there was no Phoebe King or whatever the hell her last name was now.

Back then, Mona was genuinely the definition of geek. Or at least that's what _she_ had told her. Her eyes were never green enough, her wardrobe never cool enough, and her music never hip enough. She ripped her hair out trying to make friends but Phoebe had made it a nightmare.  
She had never felt like she had to hide who she was until she had met Phoebe.

Eventually in high school she blossomed into a swan and was physically hotter than her rival, smarter too. While that time was past, Mona couldn't help but hate her. She wanted her to feel the same way she did- really crappy all day, all night. She couldn't even explain the feeling of anger that burned in her blood when Robin told her about the first draft of messages he had received. Mona didn't hesitate to say that she was bitterly disappointed.

Mona whistled as she subconsciously typed in her favorite online shopping place. It always seemed to calm her down, but this wasn't the time for that. Now was the time for answers.

Her phone vibrated on her desk. New message from Spencer Lates.

_"Figure anything out yet?"_

Mona rolled her eyes.

"Nope."

_"Oh. Kk. Well then what's up?"_

"Trying not to die." Mona muttered to herself. She typed "Nm. You?" More courtesy questions. Boring.

"_Going to dinner with my parents. Wish me luck. Gtg. Ttyl."_

"Boo, you whore." Send. Instant regret. Great. Spencer the sheltered probably thought she was actually calling her a whore. Wait, why was she quoting that movie? Oh that's right. Every time she thought about Phoebe, she thought about that one quote that used to describe her life perfectly. "How many of you have felt personally victimized by Regina George?" In her mind, her hand was the first that shot up. Mona shook her head, hair slapping against her face. That wasn't her life anymore. No need to relive it.

The screen glowed. New message. Probably Spencer. She unsquinted her eyes and was surprised to see it wasn't? What was it? She had never seen a text like this before. And realization. Her heart pounded.

**6:49 P.M.**  
**Spencer Lates arrives at Ophelia Key concert with Robin Kingston**

**6:50 P.M.**  
**Ophelia Key changes into costume and begins vocal warm-up**

**6:52 P.M.**  
**Spencer Lates texts Mona Perry**

Mona stood still, not breathing. Her lungs seized forcing her to move. If her diary was correct, Spencer had lied to her. Why would she have to lie to her?

Ophelia Key, called Lia, Mona's role model and favorite actress and singer had appeared on her list too. She was everything that Mona hoped to be; Beautiful and talented. In fact, she was the reason that her hair was the shade it was. Mona's hair is naturally black, but in Lia's music video Brilliant Ideas, she had her hair an angelic shade of blonde. She wanted nothing more than to look like her. Slightly upturned nose, Cupid's arrow lips. Of course Lia's hair wasn't blonde anymore. One could describe it as a brown gray. Really gorgeous too, but how she looked in that video was what she wanted to be. Which led her back to the question. Why was she receiving messages about her, why did Spencer lie, and why was she even getting messages period?

Spencer texted back: _"what?!"_

"Exactly what you think it means..."

* * *

_"Yuki, Ninth is here... again. Should I tell her to leave?"_

_"No. Let her in. I have a few questions of my own for her._

_"But she's talking to herself again... about you being her master, it's weird."_

_"You chose her, Muru Muru."_

_"I know, but can't we just delete her?"_

_"I hope you're kidding."_

_"Fine. Come on in, Ninth."_

_"Please, just call me Faye."_

_**Author's Note: Enter new characters! ERMERGERSH! I found inspiration. I think I did the Diary entries wrong but it's my story. I'll do what I like. Ha. Just kidding. I'm re-watching Mirai Nikki for that sole reason. I've figured out what their diaries are and do. It's just executing it that I have a problem with. Anyways, expect higher quality those and more diary usage! Also, should I use diary as a proper noun in this context? Confusion.  
This is completely random but I have been obsessed with Pokémon Emerald for the past week. I got an old school Nintendo DS for my birthday and I can't freaking beat Wattson. BTW I had the flu on my birthday. Nothing says Happy Birthday like tamiflu... Sigh.**_

**_Thanks for reading you lovely monkeys!_**


	8. Chapter 8

**I don't own Future Diary or any of the references. **

**Chapter 8**

**Numbed Mistakes**

If his fate had not been an entire charade of misfortune, he might actually have held positive outlook to the circumstances he raised with his own hands. It would have been better to ignore Muru Muru's selfish musings to satisfy her own appetite for stirring up mischief and emotional turmoil, but for some reason he felt- compelled to listen. Whether it was to justify what had happened to him or his own pride as being invincible he would never know or understand. Everything he is and has come to know was based on strict and unyielding principle. Ever since he became god, Yuki could honestly admit that he hadn't a truly happy moment in this existence. He wanted- Yuki cursed his inner sentimental nature. His exterior held the distinguishing character of an emotionless robot... but that wasn't entirely true. He was constantly in agonizing despair. Where was his happy ending? But because his happy ending has yet to appear, he would count the sleepless nights until he found it. Inner peace. His mind wandered into perplexity every time he began to fathom this new- game. Even as god, there were no do- overs, no restarts, no anything. Just rules. Just more haunting scenes of his hand crafted world based from his mistakes. Why? Yuki's acute sense of hearing snapped him out of his trance like thought process. In one blink, Muru Muru was standing (slouching) before him, arms crossed at her chest. A particularly unamused look spread across her face. Before he had time to question, Muru Muru gestured behind her.

'I forgot about Faye. At least that explains her less than ecstatic expression. I better get this over with.' Yuki thought to himself. As being the figure of superiority, he figured that she could come over to him. It was funny that even as god, his legs still went numb after sitting for prolonged periods if time. Another reason why she could come to him.

Yuki stared void of all emotions at the over exuberant diary holder of Muru Muru's choice. The one person he let her pick on her own, she chose the one that most infuriated him the most. Which said a lot because he thought if himself as having no feelings. It wasn't entirely true, but over the years he could say that he had mellowed out a drastic amount.

She's back. Again." Muru Muru huffed, annoyed. The 'she' that was being mentioned was Faye Sanders.  
Whilst going through the prototypical meetings and informings, the girl had begun to fancy Yuki- in a weird way. Every time she engaged herself in conversation with him, she without fail managed to squeeze in how much she adored her master and wanted to rule beside him. This scared him, thus making Faye his least favorite personality wise. Even though she was a complete nut case, she held potential to still be winner. Which again, terrified him.

Pushing aside his initial worries that finding a new winner would progress to quickly, Yuki was now worried that it may never end. If memory served, and it did, around the time his diary started reading predictions the first player had already perished... and by his dart too! One by one, they kept revealing traces of their identities that would ultimately bring their demise. This group may be less intelligent as when he was a diary holder, but they were certainly cunning. While he strongly disapproved of their carelessness, he couldn't help but be slightly sympathetic to their tactics of choosing to stand by someone. There was the perfect scenario of 9th and 5th who somehow managed to develop an almost mother-son relationship. They were always smiling and actually living. The two being polar opposites in age and nature, made it work. It truly intrigued him to see how they'd fare. Then there was the group of 1st, 2nd, and 11th. The short lived trio seemed to be coming less like a trio each day. Yuki couldn't exactly figure why. They were all perfectly compatible, but hey c'est la vie- or death in this case.

His attention shifted back to the girl standing before him. The nineteen year old fanatic was dressed in her normal everyday material that consisted of a medley of black and red. Dark as night combat boots complete with studs, ripped fish nets, tight mini skirt that left nothing up to the imagination, and velvet red corset also with studs. Her light brown hair was tied up into two half pigtails, the remaining portion fanned out around her face. Her expressive, blood red eyes (courtesy of oddly pigmented contacts) were locked on Yuki's.

Muru Muru coughed awkwardly and crossed her arms. "What do you want?" Her attention span moved her back to her old manga collection where she plopped down and promptly continued reading from where she left off.

Faye gave Yuki an uneasy glance and shuffled a few paces forward. "I-I have a question, s-sir." She curtseyed in the process of her sentence, flicking her hands as if she was swatting a fly.

Muru Muru glanced up, grinning sarcastically ear to ear. "Yeah that's why you're here." She flipped the pages with her thumb. Only once had Muru Muru ever been happy to see Faye. That was when they first met. Muru Muru rammed her bike into her and had to help pay medical bills. Not exactly what you might call a warm greeting. After a few very heated debates, Faye dropped her charges of hit and run. Yuki shuddered at their incompetence. Muru Muru technically didn't exist in the real world unless she wanted too. Yeah, Yuki didn't understand it either.

"Sorry, but I don't validate your opinion. Shorty." Faye glowered, warningly. Her eyes narrowed into slivers.

"Hey, show some respect!" Muru Muru countered, throwing her precious manga at the girl's face hitting it square. She snickered in return to her perfect aim, as always.

"What the heck is wrong with you?! You could've hit master!" Faye bellowed. She picked up the article of which had been thrown at her and raised it into the air.

The two proceeded to engage in a cat fight. First Muru Muru pulled her hair. Then Faye smacked her with the remaining pages of the manga. Muru Muru countered by biting her hand. This continued for several minutes.

Yuki watched, mouth agape as to what exactly had just happened. He frowned at the antics of the two and cursed his intellect. He knew better then to let the two of them be around each other. Add Faye and Muru Muru together and you get an equation of mental exhaustion. He mentally slapped himself for what he was about to say but he had no choice. Either watch them rip each others hair out or listen to Faye's typically long winded and generally uninteresting questions that almost always were rhetorical. Suddenly the first option started to sound better.  
"Faye, your master commands you to stop."

Almost instantaneously, Faye developed some sort of super strength and threw Muru Muru across the room. She stood in attention. Yuki could almost see Faye sparkling. This was humiliating. "Yes, my lord? I am at your disposal." She curtseyed lower then before.

Muru Muru hissed venomously under her breath as she regained her composure, collecting her scattered manga pages. She directed her hateful glare back to Faye. "What was your question?" It was obvious that she wanted her to leave as soon as possible. At least that was one thing the two of them could agree on.

Faye straightened, smoothing down the wrinkles in her skirt. She nodded; she grabbed her phone from her pocket. Faye dead panned. "What do you recommend? Playing this game with a group or going solo?" Her face contorted into a smile.

Yuki gulped. The daunting memories of his travesty rushed back to him in horrific waves. He would never wish what had happened to himself upon his worst enemies. Of course, his worst enemies were part of what caused this atrocity. Things were so confusing then. He began to become so desensitized to everything. Violence. Gore. None if it bugged him in the slightest anymore. His days of playing hero were over. He liked to think that the whole thing was just a fluke and that Yuno had won and he wouldn't suffer anymore. When he thought about it, this sick game was evil. Especially this. It was pointless. There didn't need to be a god of this new world. How could he have been so blind as to listen to Muru Muru's twisted delusions that spur from boredom. It was too late. The moment he created the new world was the moment he agreed to torture a new 12 innocent people to the breaking point. Even after more than 1000 years, he was the same monster that he was then.

Yuki turned around wordlessly. "Do what you want. Both have their own repercussions." How else could he answer that? If you were in a group, you'd eventually witness their death or deal it yourself before they do the same to you. If you go alone, you risk complete isolation and missing knowledge. Vivid flashbacks occupied his brain leaving him to daze. He wished that he could wake up. With the single wave of his arm, Faye vanished. One thing he would give her credit for was her ability to get under your skin. It seemed like a skill that she had honed to perfection. Maybe that was why he didn't like her. That she made him unearth his buried past. He was wrong. Of all his watered down emotions, the one that still remained prominent was regret.

* * *

"C'mon. You're sucking the energy out of that lightbulb." Drew chided, running her fingers through the boy's paled hair. She thus proceeded to flick his forehead until he answered or at least acknowledged. Wyatt swatted her hand away. "What's wrong little buddy?" Drew added in a mock baby voice.

"Not a thing." Wyatt muttered, hoping that she would leave him alone to his thoughts. Being alone was the only way he could pull out his inner genius that everybody told him he was. "Besides, you just got shot in the hand. You should be a little more careful. Hey, how did you even get that fixed?"

"I know people, who know people, who know doctors that work under the radar for like gangs and other things that may not qualify as legal." She paused, biting a baby carrot dipped in ranch dressing into her mouth. "Did you know that you can bite off a finger easy as a carrot?" She seemed more enthused by this than anyone should ever be. Wyatt cringed. He felt a twinge crawl up his spine. "Mmhmm. Crazy right? Apparently you body tells you not to though."

The boy abruptly spun around from his cozy spot that let him peer out her apartment building that overlooked the huge city. "Cannibal. How the hell do you know that?" He smoothed down his ruffled hair. Drew had gotten ranch in it which completely snubbed his hygiene rules. He decided to wash it when she was done.

Drew's teasing gaze hardened to one of a more menacing nature. "Watch your mouth. I'm only allowed to cuss. You are in fact ten." In one motion, the remaining veggies on the tray were tossed into the teal painted trash can that say adjacent to her.

"What if I'm not ten? That might explain my vast intelligence in comparison to yours of a minuscule scale." He slid back into his cushion and returned to people watching. It was so interesting. Everyone had their own story and personality. During the day time, he would sit there and try to guess their life stories until Drew got back from whatever she did all day. Work maybe? No. She was too lazy for that... not to mention bad. Drew responded with silence. Wyatt shuddered at the uncharacteristic pregnant pauses. "... Wait. You're not actually contemplating whether I'm ten or not? Right?!" He huffed, spinning his body back to face her.

"...In other news, popular singer Ophelia Key has been hospitalized after fainting after her concert last night. No further information has been given about her condition..."

"Drew? Are you even listening to me?" Self consciously, he fixed his slouched posture and averted his violet hued stare. He squeezed the hem of his shorts that Drew had purchased to replace his pair of faded jeans. She really was a nice person despite how she depicted herself. He was lucky to have met her. It was a shame that he would have to die though. Wyatt mentally slapped himself for his intrusive thoughts of what he thought would be inevitable. He often fantasized his own departure now a days to psych himself up, but no matter how hard he tried to make himself perish heroically, he always perished. That was the problem. He was ten. He didn't want to die. Wyatt thought that he did a good job of masking these emotions from his role model- role model... He wanted to be like her. Strong, independent, genuine. It saddened him to think that he might not get a chance to. Wyatt thought of Drew's gun shot wound. No matter how he played it, this was real. This was life that was being played with. He all of a sudden didn't feel like talking anymore.

His fingers trailed across the smooth surface of his diary. He had been inside so long that his diary never predicted anything of importance. Just things like: Drew Piper arrived home or something similar to that. Well at least he knew how to use it. He didn't think the same for Drew.

Wyatt shifted uncomfortably, finally taking notice of the silence which had been furthered in time. "I, uh, are you okay?" It felt like she had forgotten that he was even in the room. The segment about Lia seemed to have thrown her off. Taking the hint Wyatt decided to question. "What are you not telling me, Drew?"

"Huh, what? Oh sorry. Look it's nothing for you to worry about. I just remembered that I have a job to take care of tomorrow, so I'll be gone pretty early tomorrow." She held a perfectly convincing smile. One that would've fooled most, but he wasn't most. Reading people like books came naturally to the boy and he knew that something wasn't right in the world of Drew Piper.

"You and I both know that it's not a 'job'. You know something about Lia and that's what you're not telling me."

He noticed her smile slightly twitch downwards.

Bingo...

* * *

_**Author's Note: It's done. I'm trying this new thing where I make the chapters longer which is definitely a process that has yet to be completely learned. Hey, at least it's longer than my usual of two pages or whatever. So expect longer chapters I guess. I feel like I've said that before. How are you liking this so far? I'd love to hear from you. Oh, and huge thanks to Illia, aka my editor who doesn't edit, for all of the ideas she has given me *coughs* Faye. And another huge thank you for reading and reviewing! I greatly appreciate it! This would've been out faster had I not deleted the first copy and rewrote the previous one due to the others deletion. **_

_**Unrelated Note: I've recently begun delving into my childhood which consisted of Pokémon games and old Disney songs. I was such an odd child... and I may just give my awkward childhood experiences to poor Wyatt. But I won't be telling you which parts I add in. Look forward to that as well! Oh, and does anyone else when writing loop one song and listen to it the entire time? I should go now.**_

_**Until next time you fantabulous Chihuahuas!**_


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: I don't own Mirai Nikki or any of the references. :3**

**Chapter 9**

**The Lucky Ones**

"Stick your tongue out."

Faye did as she was told, over emphasizing the point that she had swallowed the evil pill. She slouched back into the cashmere sheet that was strewn on top of her bed in a rushed manner. Faye tugged at the back of her old gray night gown. The sun had set, leaving a mix of orange and purple to taint the sky until night fell.

Mrs. Sanders, Faye's mother sat adjacent sipping chamomile from an old coffee mug that read: "Mother of the Year". Hardly. Mrs. Sanders shifted her mug so that the words were near herself. She pursed her lips picking apart the room- all of its flaws like the paint job that she had done five years ago when her sister had moved out. It was a shade of green that practically screamed you're on something. She partially opened her pink painted lips but closed them and stood up to leave. The door shut behind her, the clicking of her he's could be heard from down the hall followed by another slamming door. Faye was alone, finally.

The girl swung her legs off the side of the bed and spat the horrid pill on the floor. This one she believed had been for sleeping. But who needed sleeping? She figured that god have her eyes so why not use them? It seemed like a waste to not use oneself to potential. Faye lazily rubbed the corner of her eyes, taking notice of her lack of irritating contact lenses. She glanced at herself in the mirror directly across from her hanging on the wall. Her slender fingers swiftly gathered her brown hair and secured it in a ponytail.

Personally, she liked the way she looked. Perfect shade of dark brown that fell below her shoulders, that curled and straightened when she needed it to; large, round eyes with deep pools of chocolate for irises; slender body with enviable measurements; she was perfect to herself. Apparently perfect to others as well. People had often stopped to ask if she was a model or actress but of course she wasn't. It was a quick thrill that she got high off of. It made her feel unique. Someone that her parents would be proud of.

The same way she wasn't an actress, her parents weren't. Proud that is. Her parents felt that wearing skirts in public called for a come to Jesus meeting. But life wasn't about pleasing one person, one critic, one or two egotistical idiots who didn't even know her.

_Crazy._

That's what everyone said she was.

Her ex-boyfriends parents, her ex-boyfriend, her mom, her dad, everyone. Everyone but Faye. She wasn't crazy maybe weird but not crazy. This was their third attempt at putting her on a new pill regimen. She couldn't even remember the names of them. After all she never took them. You would've thought that they would've caught on to her childish trick but no.

The pill that sat disgustingly seemed to be staring her down. Judging her. Faye shifted uncomfortably away from the proof of her "loved" ones distrust. So you accidentally push someone down stairs and your labeled insane and unsafe for human interaction. It was true she had a low tolerance for stupidity but she didn't need anger management classes… at least she thought that's what she was in trouble for. But she wasn't mad. She wanted someone to listen to her, but alas that day might never come. That's why she would become God—to make people listen to her.

She was definitely not _crazy_. . .

A muffled beeping sound came from her phone causing her to jump. It snapped her out of the thought consuming, well thoughts. Faye hated thinking too intensely because it contorted the brain. She felt that if she ever over thought about something that she might second guess herself and second guessing was a truly unforgivable task. Her eyes rolled finally settling on her phones location. What did it want from her this time? If it didn't involve Yuki then she didn't care. Then again…

Diary predictions?  
Her diary, the Keepsake Diary read her opponents desires when they were near. A tricky way to find anything out, but she quickly got around it. Over the weeks she had been collecting data over the confirmed diary holders. Robin Kingston the First, Mona Perry the Second, Drew Piper the Eighth, and Spencer Lates the Eleventh. There were a few others that she was currently aware of but didn't know enough about to act on. Like the boy who followed the Eighth around like a lost puppy and the strange anti-hero that had attacked the Second. How'd she know this? Apparently this world only had thirty people in it and stalking had some perks…  
The predictions didn't happen often. At least any that concerned her in the slightest. In short, her diary told her any activities of her recent obsessions. Obsessions were definitely the best way to describe her relationship to the predictions.

Obsessions were the best thing she could use to describe anything in her life. When she was little, she was obsessed with stuffed animals. Older, she was obsessed with nailpolish. Now, love and of course her competition. No matter how hard she tried or didn't try, they all just left her when she wanted them to and joined her when she needed. It felt so passionate on both sides. She always said that she had never felt like that before and almost meant it a few times. But those relationships never lasted. She never felt hurt though. After all it was just an obsession not love.

For some reason with Yuki it felt different. Faye didn't know how to explain it but it felt like an undiscovered emotion. Like she could start over. Something that would last forever, something infinite.

Faye unfastened the tie holding her hair up, allowing it to fan out around her shoulders. Her hair was straight today. She proceeded to pirouette over to her locked window. Her parents thought that by adding an extra lock on her window would keep her from getting outside. Puh-lease. It would take a hell of a lot more than a pathetic lock. Locks were easy to crack anyways.

Faye unlatched the windows normal locks and with the bat of an eyelash, she had already unlocked the added security. She grunted as the window seemed to stick at every two or so inches she lifted. Finally, with both of her slender arms over her heart shaped face, she slid out the window and landed firmly into the lush grass. Before leaving Faye somehow managed to shut the window halfway.

"You can't be too careful right?" Faye tittered at a bird in the vicinity. The blue bird flew away as she kicked a tiny pebble from her driveway in its direction. A car whizzed past and several boys had kicked a soccer ball two yards down. A scrawny looking blonde boy rushed quickly to get it back. For a second the boy looked terrified but in an instant it was gone. The second he returned the whole posse had engaged in what looked to be a heated debate. Occasional glances had often been thrown her way as well as the words "insane" and "crazy".

Faye shrugged. Raising her voice so the boys could hear she responded: "I'm just as crazy as you are." She stuck her tongue out. Her hand grazed the surface of her phone. The boys looked puzzled but didn't move. "Now you've made me late. I have a meeting and now I'm late." She pouted, digging her heel into the grass. "What do you have to say for yourself?" Faye looked up to see that the children were no longer there. "Ah, whatever. I'm late after all." She unbuttoned her blazer. She liked blazers more than that old gray nightgown. That… thing felt restricting. Faye popped a stick of strawberry flavored gum into her mouth. "Boys will be boys." Faye sang a few scales and skipped off.

"I'm sooo winning this!"

* * *

Morning light streamed in through a gaping hole in the blinds hitting a certain sleeping boy directly in the corner of his closed eyes. Wyatt rubbed his sleep crusted eyes and sat up with as many added yawns as humanly possible. He proceeded lazily into the kitchen where he was greeted to the pleasant aroma of freshly brewed coffee, cinnamon, and pastries. Wyatt popped a chocolate chip waffle into the toaster and propped himself up on the counter with his elbows.

The small TV in the corner was flipped to the local news. The reporter, a lady of average height with black hair and brown eyes had an expression that oozed of causality. He figured she probably had better places to be, bigger fish to fry, something like that. The camera panned over to what looked to be the police chief. The heading for the story flashed bright orange at the bottom of the screen, but it was too early in the morning for the boy to process exactly what it had read.

Violet eyes flickered back to the simple white toaster and the waffle that peeked out slightly at the top. It was normal-pleasant. Living with Drew had been nice, hectic at times but nice. He admitted that the two didn't know anything about the other outside of initial behaviors and impulses, but this... whatever it was would work.

Wyatt changed the channel to the very next one. It was a weather report. The weather this morning had miraculously, despite all previous assumptions of another rainy day, had brightened making it less terrible for the poor travelers that always struggled to remove or add luggage from an impatient taxi drivers cab to the street or their next destination. Today would be good for them. The waffle was dry and needed butter. The chocolate chips were mediocre at best and if you thought that he was distracting himself until Drew got back, then you would be right.

Wyatt would admit that he was moderately surprised by her actions yesterday with that singer's accident or whatever. If there was one thing he was bad at, it would be names and Wyatt couldn't remember this one for the life of him. But her name didn't matter...yet. That's why he had prepared a second round of questions for his pseudo-guardian regarding the strange coincidence they had occurred. The boy took another bite of the dry waffle. Could it really be called a coincidence?

Wyatt checked his diary every five to ten minutes to see when Drew might arrive home and hopefully it would be sometime soon. In the meantime, however, he was gonna become one of those full-fledged elementary school detectives that everyone read about at his age. He hated those kinds of books. Trivial. And anyways it wasn't completely shameful. Sherlock Holmes was pretty cool, right? He needed to stop watching so much late night TV...

Wyatt exhaled slowly through his nose. Drew's room was completely cluttered. Dirty makeup brushes were strewn across the floor and bed. A pile of clothes sat at the far end of the modestly proportioned living quarters. Wyatt held in all air. Breathing felt like intruding somehow. He tiptoed over to a black duffle, a bottle of sunscreen had leaked, explaining why the room smelt like beach.

"Geez..." Wyatt muttered in awe of a pink cloud of blush he had accidentally sent into the air by tapping a brush on a mirrored vanity. "What does she need all this for?" He wiped the foreign powder onto his blue pajama bottoms.

Aside from the clutter of various objects that had possessed the floor, Drew's room, the decorations, surprised the boy. The wall closest to the cream colored door was painted a pale blue, almost turquoise. From the ceiling hung three foot long butterflies each individually colored. Everything looked so... not Drew. When Wyatt first entered her lair, he half expected to find a half living person lying on the beige shag carpet. Half alive because she was bad at her job, being an assassin. It looked kid-ish, but the more he wrapped his brain around the contents, the more it became blisteringly obvious-she secretly liked girly things. It was kind of cute for her.

Turning triumphantly on the heel of his bunny slippers, he was met with the face of someone he didn't quite know or at least he thought he didn't know. The figure was clad in all black from head to toe. The person had a slender build and looked to be a man. If he was being robbed, he definitely had chosen the wrong house. There was nothing of value here except...

Goosebumps sprang on Wyatt's slender arms. "W-who are you? What are y-" his voice trembled.

The mysterious figure giggled ominously. The only things visible on the figure were eyes and mouth. Two onyx orbs glistened back tauntingly and a blood red Cheshire Cat smile seemed to contort even more as the stranger inched closer.

Wyatt tried to make his body move again but it just stayed limp and nailed to the spot. Blood zoomed in his ears. He felt as if his heart would stop purely from this, this adrenaline rush. A lamp's light flickered eerily from its dimming bulb. Wyatt racked his brain but he hadn't read anything about how to fend off a killer. From the kitchen, another reporter's voice flooded into from the room.

"In other news, a boy's body has been found dead. The identity has yet to be released, but the police believe the cause of death to be,"

The smell of sunscreen burned inside his nostrils. The masked apparition crinkled pages in his diary between his thumb and forefinger.

"I think you know why I'm here." The man hissed. He pulled out a long knife which was grazing the surface of his diary. With his thumb he turned to the page that predicted his future. He smudged it with a haunting smirk. Five seconds passed. The grin widened. "7:50, Dead End. Wyatt Butler bleeds to death. I'm glad I get to do the honors, and look we're right on time." Wyatt's stomach plummeted.

He couldn't grasp that this would be his final moment of breathing sweet air. He hadn't been cautious enough. Drew had warned him that people would try to kill him but he couldn't grasp it. It wasn't fair. He didn't ask for this. He figured that he would lose, but not this early. Not the first one to be brutally ravaged and why? Because they could. It wasn't hard. He was weak.

He wasn't strong like Drew.

The boy steeled himself to not cry. With his thumb, he traced the letters of his name on the inside of his wrist. He had prided himself on knowing far more then someone if his age would normally know, but after all those ten years of relying on his brain, there was nothing he could do. He was out of tools for this.

"And what if I want to be the hero?" The boy whispered to himself. Wyatt figured he had approximately fifty seconds to outlast the flag.

The man gritted his teeth and lunged forward, shining blade pointed precisely at his throat. Just as planned. Wyatt jerked to the right, causing himself to land in an open eyeshadow case. He had barely missed his diary, but he didn't think that had mattered much. This brute of a human was obviously all brawn. Anyone who had listened to Yuki would have known that if your diary was destroyed, you died. In his large gorilla like hands, he continued to twist the binding. It was possible that this man didn't know…

"You little," he sprang forward. Wyatt kicked his right hand as hard as possible. Without noise he somersaulted towards the falling object. The boy scrambled quickly to his feet. The man got up too; he had tripped over an opened suitcase. His eyes flashed furiously and his teeth clenched. The smug grin was nowhere to be seen.

Thirty seconds left.

Wyatt grimaced as his ankle rolled, allowing his body to tumble down the flight of stairs. His breathing turned rigid. The ground arrived faster than initially expected. His body landed with a crunch at the bottom of the stairs.

"Run all you want, but your death is in writing." Time seemed to be moving slower by the second as the man proceeded towards Wyatt's limp body.

"You can do this." He squeezed his violet eyes shut. His arm felt broken and his ankle felt stuck. It was like his own body was telling him to give up. "I won't," he hissed as he limped to the kitchen. His left hand shook as he struggled to latch onto the kitchen counter for support. Wyatt searched frantically for something, anything to protect himself with. The knives in the kitchen drawers were gone, just gone. He couldn't lift a chair to fend off anymore attacks because of his arm. The older man kept walking towards him. There wasn't going to be an easy way out of this… if there was one to begin with.

"Twenty, nineteen, eighteen," Wyatt's attacker lilted, approaching the kitchen. His voice itself felt like a knife cutting into Wyatt's skin. A metallic taste filled his mouth as he bit his tongue. He couldn't, didn't know what to do, what to use. A flame lit running through the course of his veins. Suddenly he knew what he had to do. Two items by the pantry caught his mind…

His attacker's expression of sadistic glee had morphed into something drastically darker. Before Wyatt knew it, the knife slid directly between his shoulder and neck. A trail of crimson trickled down onto the wood paneled floor. His Cheshire Cat grin was back.

"Before you kill me, could you at least give me my diary back? It has sentimental value." Wyatt said casually as if this happened on a regular basis. With his mind he tried to steady the throbbing pain and channel it into something else. The man sliced deeper elevating the scratch to a deep gash. It actually qualified as a real knife wound.

The man handed it back. Why? He would never know, but he was thankful that he did. What would happen next was just a reaction.

Just reaction?

"I'm sorry." Wyatt whispered under his shaky breath. In his hand held a lighter which he had used without hesitation on the man's smooth looking hand. Before he had time to react, the boy reached behind, spraying a thick stream of wasp repellent directly in his taunting black eyes. Wyatt continued to enflame the man's sleeve. Just as expected, the wasp repellent acted as gasoline, engulfing the man in flames. He screamed in agony as he threw himself to the ground desperately trying to put out the flames. His face twisted up reflecting excruciating pain. He clawed the ground as he rolled, trying to put out the flames. Wasp repellent was highly flammable was all that seemed to circulate around in his thought process.

Wyatt fell to his knees, completely out of breath. His diary no longer read his Dead End but the death of Claude Roswell. He had done this. The same grim expression remained etched onto Claude's pale skin as mustered up his last words. "Win," his hand fell to the ground, dead.

Claude was dead.

"I can't," Tears of distraught and mild gratefulness stung in his eyes. The trail of crimson formed into a pool at his bunny slippers.

Wyatt had killed him. He had burnt a man to death, it was, it wasn't fair.

Wasn't fair.

His conscience felt shaky. His brain felt dizzy. His stomach felt sick. His knees felt weak. His heart felt confused- distraught. The blue notebook clattered to the floor. The echo pierced his ringing ears. It seemed to reverberate throughout the room—like time itself had stopped.

"Hey I'm back!" Drew hummed as she kicked the door shut with her foot. In her hands held what looked to be a box of donuts. Her chipper expression warped when she saw the mess that was on her kitchen floor. "Holy, what happened?" She dropped the box, there were in fact donuts inside. Wyatt could see a pink sprinkled one, they were his favorite.

"I've been waiting for you to get back." He said.

Wyatt's head hit the coffee table and his eyelids fluttered shut encasing him in darkness.


	10. Chapter 10

_**Author's Note: Welcome to the tenth chapter! In honor of it, I have reevaluated my past chapters and am happy to say things are mostly going as planned. A few things I want to point out:**_

_**The Diaries WILL be used more frequently as the story progresses. The main problem is that some of them don't quite necessarily know how to use them yet, so I will get that done and out of the way quite soon. I'm waiting until next chapter (SPOILER) for that to be picked up. **_

_**You may notice a few flaws in the time line, in which case, I deeply apologize. I'm sorting it out and whatever information I may have included about dates is no longer valid. This chapter should fix that however. Thank you so much!**_

_**This Muru Muru is the real Second Muru Muru by the way. I just made her act a lot like the other one because it's fun. **_

_**Warnings: Catty insults and brief character tweaks. Kind of, not really. **_

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Mirai Nikki or any other references mentioned, obviously. **_

_**Chapter 10: Arguments**_

**May 19 12:01 [Café Foursquare]**

**Spencer, Mona, and I meet for late breakfast and to discuss strategies.**

Robin didn't know exactly he was going to eat his lunch while his two friends were glowering daggers at each other from opposite sides of the small table at the same café they had first agreed to meet roughly a month ago when this all started. Not to be confused with the French place, that place was shut down for some reason. It settled uncomfortably upon his brain when he first found out.

Robin was sitting next to Spencer who was directly to his left furiously sipping on some kind of latte. Mona was leaning back against the red cushions casually glaring as if it was a normal part of human interactions.

Lately, all of their interactions had either started or ended like this after the Ophelia Key concert for some reason that he would never understand. They just drove to the concert. Nothing more. Spencer did leave him at the door but she came right back after ten minutes. And the show hadn't even started when they had left. Maybe he should tell Mona? He had suggested telling Mona earlier but Spencer had flipped and started yelling that they couldn't tell Mona. He eyed his green eyed companion covertly and they way she was staring made him think that she already knew exactly what had happened.

Mona leaned forward and sipped her sweet tea through a clear straw. A small ring of her chap stick was left behind.

It seemed that both of them were growing more and more hostile towards each other and most of the times it seemed to be about him. Actually, the majority of the hot air between both of them had been stemmed through Mona's growing anger about Robin choosing to sit next to Spencer. He didn't really think what he did was wrong. All he did was sat down without thinking and the next thing he knew the two had engaged in verbal abuses, but not normal name calling like "bitch" or "jerk", oh no. They were comparing pieces of information about Robin to see which one of them knew more and it was to say the least humiliating how pathetic they made him sound. In a way he had caused the argument so he figured that he kind of deserved it somewhat. This had gone on for an hour now and he felt the disapproving glances of the remaining people every time one of them spoke.

**13:05 [Café Foursquare]**

**Spencer and Mona start a fight over me. Someone help me!**

**13:06 [Café Foursquare]**

**Mona kicks me in the shin. **

**13:07 [Café Foursquare]**

**Spencer and Mona's fight begins to escalate. Somehow I stopped it. **

"Robin, do you want anything else? I'll be happy to get it for you." Spencer added icily. It came off nice sounding but the coldness in her voice didn't go undetected. She leaned her elbows onto the table. Her fingers were painted black to coordinate with her sour attitude.

"Um, no. I'm fine. Thanks." Robin answered honestly. "I'm fine with my cookie." He pinched off a bite of said cookie. It was a plain sugar cookie, nothing extraordinary, but it was satisfying for the moment. Mona snickered and inhaled deeply through her nose.

"What's your damage?"

"Hey Princess, why don't you shut up and finish eating so we can leave?"

"Guys, please," his words were cut off as he felt a sharp pain in his shin, signaling him to stop talking. It was nice to know who controlled the group.

"Robin," Spencer whined as she tied up her curly blonde hair into a bun. "I'm ready to leave." She stood up.

"Excuse me?" Mona growled. Robin turned his head in confusion. An awkward silence settled among them.

"I said I'm ready to leave." It took Robin a second to realize that she was yet again staring at him. Like the time when she had drawn that eerily accurate picture of him on the back of a napkin in crayon. He couldn't help but to feel uncertain of that look. It was very not Spencer like. It was more fitting of Mona but if he had said that aloud he would've been better off a dead man.

"Okay. Sure. I am too," He answered back quickly. Mona's glares were now cast at him. He averted her green eyed glance and moved so Spencer could get out.

"You always take _her _side." Mona slid out of the booth and slammed her fist on the table. The empty glass of tea teetered.

"He does not!" Spencer grabbed Robin's arm. "Right?" She pressured.

"Oh puh-lease, he follows you like a trained dog." Mona stated matter of factly. Her hand darted to her phone which was lying on the table.

"You're delusional!" Spencer spat out of aggravation and aggressiveness. Her hands unclenched from Robin's arm and snaked their way back to her hips.

"I may be, but at least I'm not a killer."

"Guys, please." Robin prompted.

"Shut up!"

"You wanna fight?"

"Guys,"

"Sure, let's go, Cowgirl."

"STOP IT!" Robin screamed at the top of his lungs. Every head in the café was turned to them. A kettle burbled from the back of the store. Across the street a balloon blew past. "We're leaving. Now."

Mona and Spencer exchanged glances. They followed him out the door. He watched them as the two girls walked in front him and smiled softly.

Robin had a few plans of his own for the rest of the day. They had a few questions to answer for him.

**13:10 Faye Sander's House [Kitchen]**

Faye sat at the kitchen staring gloomily and the organic honey wheat pretzels that her mother had bought. She plucked one from the bowl and scraped the small amount of salt off and bit into it. It was dry and crumbly. The house was built in the early 1960s with ornate and careful molding, three stories each with their own decks, and wide French doors at every room entrance. Unfortunately the kitchen was cramped and less than lively like the other parts of her prison. The appliances hadn't been replaced in a while and Faye held a silent bet with herself to see how long they would actually last before they gave out completely.

The room itself smelt clean and slightly minty like a dentist's office. She tugged her blue striped pajama top close to her body as the ceiling fan spun in constant circles creating an unpleasant breeze circulating around the room. Faye wrapped her knuckles against the table. The boredom was going to kill her.

Her mother entered the room. She didn't have to look up to see the downcast expression that she always wore when she was near Faye. It didn't make a lot of sense to Faye why exactly, but ever since her little incident a few years ago, no one looked at her the same. She wasn't crazy just because she had spent time in a mental hospital. At least she wasn't the girl who was maniacally weaving a basket in the crafts room. She had met people like that during her visit at the loony bin. No, she wasn't in there for being diagnosed insane. It was for a plea bargain for beating up someone—the only suitable reason she believed to be there in the first place. Her mother poured coffee into a mug and left without saying a word.

Now she was all alone. Now she could check in on her Yuki.

Her slippers skidded across the kitchen floor. She skipped happily up to her bedroom where her Diary was sitting safely in a padded box underneath her king sized bed. She wasn't exactly allowed to have a phone so she couldn't be too careful. Nothing, not even her parents could get to it in here. She slipped her hand under and pulled it out. The lock unhinged as she spun the dial to the correct combination.

It clicked open.

Faye grabbed her Diary and ran the tips of her fingers over the smooth surface. It was just as she had left it. She flipped open the top. There weren't many new entries

**12:23 **

**Yuki talks to Muru Muru **

**12:45**

**Yuki is still talking to Muru Muru**

**12:50**

**Yuki is talking about his life as a contestant**

**13:10 **

**Yuki makes plans to call the Diary Holders for a status update**

**13:11**

**Yuki is looking for someone**

That was odd. Why didn't it say what he was looking for? Faye shrugged her shoulders and rolled them back.

"Whatever. There's going to be a meeting later. I have to look my best."


	11. Chapter 11

_**Disclaimer: I don't own Mirai Nikki or any references mentioned.**_

Warning: Brief descriptions of injury and mild swearing.

**Chapter 11**

**Q&A**

**13:10 [Park]  
The soda machine is broken. Just my luck.**

Robin kicked the machine. It wasn't a hard kick, just one enough to get the point across that he was less then contempt at that instance. The tips of his toes were still pricking when he had returned to the bench where Spencer and Mona had seated themselves at opposite ends of the bench, leaving him to fill the space between. They really wouldn't listen to what he had to say and this ordeal was looking more and more like a lost cause.

"Soda machine is broken." Robin said dully, kicking at the ground. He almost apologized but he didn't feel sorry. It was dumb of him to even begin to feel the need to apologize for something that wasn't even in his control- what was he thinking? Robin had far more taxing issues right now to deal with then a damned soda machine. He always had been easily distracted and being up to his nose in stress was apparently no exception to the matter… this was just the beginning of his worries.

No one had really taken much notice of him in the past days and even months before he had gotten himself into this mess. It wasn't a real change of pace when he said that no one listened to him, but with Spencer and Mona, no words of his own could ever make it into one of their conversations without being threatened in some fashion. It was annoying to say the very least.

He took a step forward to sit down, but stopped. Instead, he settled on crisp grass. It was a bit damp and he figured that the ends of his jeans would be wet but that wasn't what he called a difficult situation. However, the two headstrong females casting unfavorable glances in Robin's direction all because he had opted to sit on the grass was a bit uncalled for. Of course they weren't mad about that, but his brain chose to take that way out even just for a second.

The wind picked up, causing Mona's braids to smack lightly against her face. She crinkled her nose and readjusted herself. Spencer was sitting, knees crossed and hands folded in her lap. The sun's light reflected off her golden hair making it look like it was glowing. The two nodded in response to the comment about the soda machine not presently working.

A scowl wormed its way onto Spencer's face. "Why did you bring us here?" She messed with a novelty ring on her left hand. Robin had observed her doing that multiple times and had written it down as a nervous reaction.

"Yeah," Mona piped in. "I liked the coffee shop better." She sniffed and made a face that one made when they had smelt something awful. She seemed to be doing that a lot lately anymore and especially when Spencer was around.

Robin almost found it comical how different they acted with him and with each other, but somewhere in him he just couldn't bring himself to laugh about it. "I just figured we could all use some fresh air." He stood up and stretched his arms. They were lanky and a bit too long for the jacket he was wearing, but he didn't mind. Mrs. Kingston had gotten it for him on a business trip to Bumblefluff, New York. He really had no idea what his mom did for a living or where she had gotten the jacket. Robin just knew that she was gone most days and that she seemed to be happy which was good enough for him. "I also need to talk to you both about something."

Spencer's brows piqued in curiosity. "And what would that be?"

"Yeah, shoot." Mona cast an unreadable expression at the fellow blonde next to her.

Robin cleared his throat. "It's not really a question, but an observation I guess."

"And?" Mona said.

"And I'm just worried about this."

"Is it about The Game or us in particular." Spencer unfolded her hands. Her expression seemed to know the answer. Robin was consistently grateful for her ability to read situations... as long as Mona wasn't involved. "I'm worried myself." Her gaze shifted to avoid the sun shining in her eyes.

Mona made a noise to agree. "No one has... died yet right? There are still 12 of us left?"

Robin shrugged.

Spencer nodded slowly. "As far as I know, yes."

"That's 12 people out to kill us and we take up three of those slots."

"What are you trying to say?" Robin asked, picking at the grass and crunching it into tiny pieces. When he was younger he would pretend it was confetti, but that habit had long since passed his fancy.

"I don't know." Mona sighed exasperatedly. "I guess I'm trying to be passive aggressive for once. I don't want to hurt anyone. I may act all tough but, I don't know."

A wave of silence spread over the three. No one knew what to say anymore or what to do they are just kids after all. The villains after their blood were probably older, wiser. Robin shook his head. They couldn't be called villains. They were only after the same thing they were after. He wished that he could've just sucked up his father's death like a normal child. Cried a bit, maybe became apathetic and had to go to therapy, but no. He had made a deal to participate in a death match out of spite for the world. The world that did this to him- but he didn't cope normally and this was something he wound have to deal with eventually. If he did win, could he even bring his dad back? There were so many unanswered questions swirling around in his head, it was becoming his entire existence.

Out of the blue, a dog ran past, his owner chasing behind. Robin started to think again.

Could Spencer and Mona be trusted?

Could he really bring his father back?

Could he actually stay in long enough to find out?

It was then that something clicked. Odd things did have a knack for making him think seriously. The gears began moving, spiraling in rapid circles and forming warm bubbles in his mind. He would never know unless he tried, right? There was a reason he had been chosen to compete. Someone must've thought he had a fighting chance and who was he to let them down. He was so selfish it was unreal. Always thinking about himself, his father would be so disappointed in him right now.

Robin sprang to his feet fast enough to surprise the other two.

"What's up?" Mona asked. Her shoulders tightened in reaction.

"I don't know about you, but I don't want to die. Not yet anyways. For that to happen, we all need to get along. I'm sick of you two constantly bickering. Okay? I don't want to abandon you, mostly because I think I need you but I will draw the line. That argument back in the cafe was proof enough for me to finally put my four down. I like both of you but I don't need this."

"I'm sorry that we upset you," Spencer cocked her head to the side like a dog. "But I agree. I don't know about you all but I've always felt lukewarm about both of you and whether or not I can trust you. That would be a tactile mistake though. It's my belief that the only way we can have a chance is to work together."

"What was that name we decided on when we became a team?" Mona asked her gaze distant yet hardened all at once.

Spencer blinked her blue eyes in confusion. "Kind of redundant, don't ya think?"

"Probably, but my winning values aren't in my questions, dear. I was asking to make it official."

"So you're on board?" Robin bit his cheek in an attempt to quell his grin.

She nodded. "I thought I already was. Spencer?"

"Obviously. I wouldn't have put up with your psycho asses if I wasn't. When you're attacked by a shark and someone's with you to tell the tale, you tend to keep them around. I did mean what I said earlier. I want to protect you. Okay?"

He couldn't stop the laughter bubbling in his lungs. This was the best thing ever. Nothing could duplicate this feeling. Someone cared for him. It was nice.

Just as the three had gathered in a haphazard circle like shape, an ominous buzz sounded from all of their Diaries.

It was Yuki. There was to be a meeting later today. He wondered what for, but figured he'd find out eventually. Spencer and Mona must've thought the same as neither mentioned it.

Now that things were semi right in the twisted world, Robin still had a question that they could answer. "Whatareyourdiaries?" He blurted. There was no time for the words to actually process as they left his mouth. It came out sounding like a complete blob of sound.

"Did you say something?" Mona raised an arched eyebrow as she looked back and untied her braids.

"Yeah, didn't really catch that." Spencer added, walking a few paces in front of him.

Robin paused. That question had startled him as much as them. He inhaled to calm himself. Once he trusted himself not to vomit up every thought that came to mind he opened his mouth to answer. "I asked what your Diaries are." This time around his voice was calm and composed in contrast to the brash nature of the first time.

"O-oh, that." Mona spluttered. Her mouth cinched shut. She appeared reluctant to answer and Robin didn't blame her. She bristled past Robin uncomfortably. Something was bugging her about that topic for some reason. Robin longed to ask why but decided to keep that hidden for later, maybe when he knew the girl better.

It was a mistake to randomly ask that. Oh well...

Spencer stopped walking. Her pink painted lips twisted into a frown again. She looked over her shoulder, but she wasn't looking at Robin or Mona. "Can we continue this conversation some other time? I have to go home. Parents. You know the drill."

Robin tried to look in the same direction but couldn't see anything. "Oh, um, yeah." He nodded. "Sure I guess. Do you want to meet up tomorrow?"

At this point Spencer was already a distance away. "Sounds great. I'll talk to you later!" She grinned and proceeded in the direction towards home. Home? She lived in the same neighborhood as Robin and that wasn't the way to home. He shrugged and continued on.

After Spencer was gone and could no longer be seen, Robin and Mona sauntered back to the bench where they were just at. "Hey, Robin?" Mona asked quietly. There was something different about her that didn't just lie in the pitch of her voice. Emotion possibly?

"Hm?"

"I need to talk to you about something." He southern drawl always became more apparent when she was less high strung.

"What is it?"

"Why did you lie to me about going to that concert?" Her words were plain and harsh sounding. Almost like a punch in the face. It was definitely the uncharacteristic emotion that left her mouth.

He swallowed and crossed his arms defensively. "What?" How did she know about that?

"I know. You don't have to lie to me. My Diary tells me things like that and I know that you both lied to me. Why?" Her voice hitched. It bordered on anger and sorrow. She honestly seemed hurt about it. Guilt twisted inside Robin as he was looking for an appropriate answer to give.

"I don't know. I-I didn't really have control over the matter. Sorry."

"So you had nothing to do with why that light fell?" She snapped.

"N-no! I swear I didn't even know about that, honest!" It was a true statement. He went with Spencer because she had offered. They didn't even go in. Just a case of bad timing he guessed. Why had she even asked that in the first place? It was out of place... Now he remembered that Mona was a diehard fan of Ophelia Key. She was probably just angry they didn't invite her. Well she was looking for an apology and she got one. There wasn't really anything he could add to make it sound any better. It was what it was. Luckily, she seemed to buy it. On a more intriguing note, Mona had revealed her Diary. "Would you tell me more about your Diary?" He was hoping to change the subject.

Mona licked her lips. She took the bait. "I don't know everything about it yet, but from what I've gathered it tells me the true whereabouts of someone I've come in contact with. Kind of like a tracking device."

Robin swallowed. "So it tells you where we are all the time? That's kind of a weird thought."

Mona chuckled lightly. "No, that's the thing it doesn't always tell me. It's not the whereabouts specifically either, but actions too. Neither show up at the same time though."

"Oh. Good. Not that I mind or anything just-"

"I get it." Mona cut in. Her white blonde hair was hanging in small waves around her face. Her dark crayon green eyes were calm and looked settled for a change. "Y'know I really hope this works out."

"Me too." An air of silence settled in. It was comfortable and it didn't make his skin crawl. "I've never asked you before, why do you want to become God?"  
Mona didn't answer right away. She paused, mouth slightly apart, thinking. Before she could answer, Robin stood up and stretched his arms. His jacket sleeves were now well at his elbows. He reached forward to ruffle her hair or do something remotely meaningful but something stopped him. "You don't have to answer now. I know I want to win for my dad. You don't have to think about it right now. I was just making conversation."

She grinned and followed his suit. Mona quickly tied up her hair and bid him farewell and parted ways at a small tree a block away. Mostly the conversation was carried by Mona with chunks of small talk from both ends here and there. It really was a weird feeling. To have someone care. As he shuffled home he couldn't stop the thoughts from circulating and no matter how he shaped the outcome in his mind the true reality was the best of all.

Robin winded his way onto the front porch. His mom wasn't home yet. All the lights were dim.

Robin got the same feeling from Mona like he did when he first spent time with Spencer. She was hopeful. Deep down he knew that this couldn't be forever but he wanted it to be. He wanted someone to be there and not hate him for his odd quirks even though he deserved it. He had made his final decision in the little time he had spent with these girls. There was no way he would win- allow himself to win that is. There were so many things he wanted to find out about them it was almost painful. They deserved to be God. Not him. He was selfish and pathetic. They weren't. He had made up his mind. He would try his damned hardest to keep his friends in The Game or he would die trying.

After all, they were his first real friends. He wouldn't do anything to harm them. Never ever.

There was a nagging thought at the back if his mind. Another full meeting tonight. There weren't a lot of them but nothing great ever came from them. To him they were purely based off inciting reactions for the remaining contestants.

Robin slumped over to his bed. The sheets were fresh washed and comfy. He couldn't let himself get too relaxed though. He sat up and leaned on his elbows. There wasn't a tv in his room so he merely sat there and waited.

The digital clock on his night stand changed to 8:00. Robin clenched his jaw and shut his black eyes. A tingly feeling washed over him and then it left. A cooling sensation rested on him. It felt suffocating, but relaxing all at once. Weird.

It was time.

* * *

**20:00 [The Space]**

This message had arrived just on time. As usual. It always gave her a heads up to her near future. She shook her head reluctantly as she was dissolved into what she knew was "The Space". She didn't know when she had started referring to it as such, but she was okay with it.

The second that this meeting had been triggered, she knew what it was about.

_The first death of many to come._

The death of 27 year old Claude Roswell.

By the time Drew had reached him, there was nothing left of him. Scathing burns covered his body. His raven black hair was singed and he hardly looked- he looked like a monster. Rightly so she figured. He deserved it. Picking on a ten year old, someone so young and so frail.

He deserved it. He deserved everything.

Drew had done a considerable amount of research after... she didn't want to think about that right now. In simpler terms, Claude was a rebellious teenager stuck in a grown man's body. He had been apprehended for petty things like stealing and a few not so petty things. Grand theft happened to be on the list. It was her understanding that the only way he avoided his tonnage of due jail time was pleaded mental instability. He never received treatment though. Claude was a slender man that looked to have a muscular build and an angular face. His eyes matched his hair in recent pictures. He had dyed it not too long ago. She wondered what his story was...

She had browsed through older pictures. His hair was always just a tad spiked with brown and patches of blonde. There was also a familiar girl in most pictures. Wife or girlfriend maybe? It was a shame. Claude was a handsome man what made it worse was he had everything but he threw it all away. In one blink of an eye and a spurt of wasp repellent from a panic stricken 10 year old it was all over.

It was a really damned shame.

She meant this, but could never muster up the words to admit it to herself. She still fumed with anger. Then there was that poor boy who had caused it all. Something was noticeably wrong with Wyatt. He didn't talk as much and had little to no appetite ever. It was hard for her to watch. Claude Roswell was murdered, but he wasn't the one who had to deal with the memory of his own death. That one belonged to Wyatt. No matter how hard she would grab his hand and stroke his stark white hair and tell him it was alright, it wouldn't be.

What alarmed her most was that he never bothered to deny her. He would just rock his head back and agree. With a smile even. But the stretch of the mouth didn't connect with his eyes. His violet disillusioned eyes.

"_I really am fine, Drew!"_ She didn't believe him.

She shifted her weight uncomfortably on the brilliant white pedestals. The purple haze that clung to hide the identities of everyone was still intact. Even still, Drew could pick out several of the people.

In order of number, she knew the identities of First, Second, Fifth, Seventh, Eighth (herself), and she was fairly certain that she knew who Eleventh was as well. There was one other she was on the fence about, but it was too soon to pinpoint an exact number.

Every spot was filled except the spot of the Seventh.

Her hunch had been correct. Yuki briefed them of his death and dismissed them.

Simple really.

That's all it ever was.

Life or death.

Simple.

When they were released, Drew was in the exact spot that she was before she was summoned. It was weird for her to think that she was someone's pawn. There were eleven people remaining as of today. She needed to act. Fast.

The only problem was that her Diary wasn't much of a help in the aspect of tracking people down. Maybe she could use Wyatt?... No. He was still drained. He didn't need to be exposed to this. No, she could do this herself.

Drew reached into her pocket and pulled out her Diary.

… Maybe she did need Wyatt's help. "Yo, little man," Drew yelled from down the hall. "Can you help me with this?" She went back to messing with her Diary. A few moments later, Drew heard the sound of footsteps.

"Yes?" It was late, late for a ten year old at least. Once she got her questions answered, Drew hoped that she would be too busy to want sleep.

"Remember when I first met you?" She paused for response. Wyatt nodded cautiously and inched forwards. "Well, you said something about people you had met a few days ago. Who were those people?"

Wyatt grabbed a pillow and hopped up next to her. He scrunched his face, trying to remember. "I don't really know."

"What do you mean you don't know?"Drew growled back sharply. She was hoping he'd give her a straight answer to go off of.

"I mean I never actually found out who they were. They said that if I killed you, they would help me."

"But you didn't?"

"You would know that better than I would." He nodded matter of factly but humphed when Drew flicked his forehead. "That wasn't nice."

"You seriously don't know who hired you to kill me?" She asked hesitantly.

"No, probably the same people that hired you to go on a murderous rampage at a school. You mean we've never had this conversation before?"

Drew sighed and stood up. "No, and this is clearly going no place that I wanted it to go." Nothing did ever go her way, why would it now? "Go to bed. It's late."

"What if I'm not tired yet?" Wyatt challenged.

Drew laughed heartily. "Go to bed. Now. Or else." And he went back to his designated room. Drew heard the lights click off. She ran her fingers through her coffee colored hair a few times before she finally decided that she was done messing with it. There were so many things she had to do but nothing that she could go off of. She launched herself upwards with the push of her wrists. The same old makeup bags were scattered around which confused her because she never really wore makeup to speak of. Maybe she should get rid of them sometime?

She really had no idea what she was doing anymore. If she wanted to get her head start she would need to find something to get ahead of; such taxing work for a person with such little ambition.

"I could always go after my original target. I wonder if they'd still be willing to pay me…" Drew hobbled over to her mirror. Then again, those kids had managed to put a hole in her hand which still was painful even though she had gotten it fixed the day it happened. It was still healing. On second thought, maybe she wouldn't mess with those kids just yet. She rocked the rolling chair back and forth as she racked her brain for any possible way to gather information. Her fingers flew furiously over the keyboard. She had resorted to looking up brief descriptions, but there wasn't much to go off of over a cloudy silhouette of someone.

Somewhere in the hours upon hours she had spent looking, the failed assassin had given into the embrace of sleep. At roughly 3 in the morning a message popped up awaking the heroine from her snooze. She flailed around for a while until she finally comprehended her setting. Her pinky rested beside the mouse as she tiredly drug the mouse pointer across the screen to click the flashing red indication of a message.

"This had better be important." Drew slurred to no one in particular. Her half awake mind told her to be quiet as to not wake the sleeping boy in the room down the hall, but her tired brain was furious that someone had woke her up from a much needed sleep. Sleep anger was Drew's least favorite kind of anger. It made her feel like her head was collapsing. She clicked twice, opening the message. But not before checking her Diary to make sure that nothing fishy was going down.

**3:24 AM**

**You want a hint?**

"What the hell?" Drew mumbled. What did this thing want with her? How annoying.

**Drew: What do youu mean? Whys your id blocked**

**I think you know why it's blocked, Drew. **

**Drew: How do u even know me? Aside from my username, I guess. Don't answer that. Still who are you? Are you…**

**You're a smart girl. Now that you've figured out *what* I am, I'll unblock my name.**

**Drew: What do you want**

**CC: I want you to finish your job, Drew. **

**Drew: Its you again? I did what you asked me to**

**CC: If I recall, she only broke her leg. I asked you to kill her. May I remind you, you took the money. **

**Drew: Fine. Ill do it. **

**CC: Good little hit man. I want it done within a week. You know what happens otherwise, right? **

**Drew Piper has gone offline**

Drew smacked her head against the table. She really needed to delete her account altogether, but why bother now? It was too late for that. Now she was sure at least half of the contestants knew her name much to her dismay. How could she have been so careless?

"Its mistakes like this that'll get you killed."

Drew craned her neck down the hall. From her room she could see the outline of the sleeping boy's body breathing in and out rhythmically. She wished she could be that calm, but alas that could not be. At least she knew what she had to do.

* * *

**7:15 AM [Mona Perry's House]**

Mona woke up the next morning on the couch from an all night movie raid. She was especially intrigued by the detective and mystery genre. Even though the movies had been brought into existence with minimal technology, the writing and acting was brilliantly crafted. It was almost unfair how she was born in the wrong time period. Detective movies aside, a whole shelf on her movie rack was devoted solely to sci-fi, romantic comedies, etc. It was easiest to say she was a movie fanatic. It was also safe to conclude that it was her secret side of her normal snarky, southern belle charm. She would love to live in a world that was her own movie that she starred in. Now that would be paradise for her.

_"Why do you want to become God? You don't have to answer right now."_

Robin's words had replayed in the back of her mind like a broken record. She couldn't answer his question. Maybe that was why it stuck out to her so much. It was her understanding that Muru Muru always scouted out the ones that needed it most, but why her? She lived a fairly average life in a huge house with a great family whom she loved with her heart. She wasn't the best student but was in all the top classes. Mona was safe to say that she was pretty. In fact, many girls wanted to be her. Everyone loved her and she loved most everyone else. Why her? Maybe she had messed up. She had recruited the wrong Mona Perry. She nodded, satisfied with her less than remarkable conclusion.

Mona stretched her arms and legs in a brief yoga like fashion and strolled into her family's wide kitchen. The counters had recently been replaced with marble so it still carried a distinct smell that came with new fixings. She didn't much care for the smell, but it was mostly masked by the scent of freshly brewed orange juice and sun screen with a hint of butter. Her mother was a fantastic cook but never seemed to have enough time to do it. She was the unofficial welcoming committee for the country club they lived in. Plastic cats occupied a whole table for that lone purpose as did cookbooks and restaurant guides and things in that nature. Her father was a lawyer who rode bicycles around town in colorful spandex. As embarrassing as it was, she enjoyed her family and all their quirks. They wouldn't be them without it.

But where did she fit into the equation?

She was just Mona. She was okay with that she guessed. It wasn't being Ophelia Key, but it was alright for now.

"Mom? Dad?" Mona called as she popped a piece of bread into the toaster. No answer. They had probably left earlier without waking her from her movie coma. She shrugged as she plucked the piece of whole wheat toast from the machine and slathered a thin layer of grape jelly on top. She crunched a few bites between her teeth to relish the sweet taste before picking out her Diary.

No new messages. That held good and bad news. Good because it wasn't her Dead End flag, bad because she kind of relied on other's dishonesty to make her move. At least her friends weren't conspiring against her because she would know if they did. Was it a mistake telling Robin her Diary yesterday? Only time would tell besides, friends or not, she did a set of ulterior motives herself. All good detectives did. She couldn't quite be called a detective just yet as no actual sleuthing was involved. She settled for the title of Vigilante of the Unknown. She called herself such to fit in with her Diary.

Last night's meeting was exactly what she had expected. It was only a matter of time until someone was eliminated. She was glad that it hadn't been her, thrilled really.

Her ringtone went off. Three honks of a clown's horn. On occasions it made her laugh hysterically, but today was not a funny or comedic day. Her mother was asking her to pick up some milk from the store. Mona said she would but had no intention to get it anytime soon. It was only 7:30. Was the store even open that early? She hated waking up in the morning especially when she got little sleep as it was. Mornings simply were not for Mona. She made a brief mental note to start off to the store when she was good and ready. Her phone rang again. It was Robin this time. How fun. More chipper morning people to get on her goat. Actually, this was the perfect time to test out her diary… How she loved the mystique of texting. It depleted all sorts of embarrassment, which is why it was the perfect time to test her Diary...

**Robin: Morning!**

**Robin: Wanna grab some coffee with Spencer and me?**

**Mona: Mornin' Robin**

**Robin: Hey that rhymed**

**Mona: ?**

**Robin: Nevermind. Anyways, coffee?**

**Mona: Sure.**

**Mona: But first...**

**Robin: ?**

**Mona: I thought we should get to know each other. Doing this in person would be awkward, so do you mind answerin' a few questions?**

**Robin: No?**

**Mona: Great! Were you born in or out of wedlock?**

**Robin: Um, what?**

**Mona: C'MON don't be shy! We are the best of friends, right?**

**Robin: …**

**Mona: Fine. I'll ask another question.**

**Robin: Alrighty**

**Mona: Are you a virgin?**

**Robin: 0_0 That is none of your concern!**

**Mona: So yes?**

**Robin: No!**

**Mona: So you aren't?**

**Robin: That's not what I said!**

**Mona: Make up your mind. So indecisive today. **

**Mona: These answers are important to our friendship.**

**Mona: The deeper we are the closer we are.**

**Robin: You're being creepy…**

**Mona: I'm here for you, bro! You can tell me anything. And good. You're saying your feelings. **

**Robin: What?!**

**Mona: Ugh. Fine. I was trying to strengthen our bonds, but if you don't want to…**

**Robin: Is this team building? I feel like you have a hidden agenda for some reason…**

**Mona: Excuse you! I have no ulterior motives whatsoever. In answer to your question, in this situation these answers could be the difference between life or death! We're talking end of our lives death here. So if you could just take a guess on your parents wedding date and calculate in your birthday**

**Robin: I don't get what you're trying to do but whatever. Color me oblivious I guess. **

**Mona: Well if you ever plan on getting married it could be important to your fiancé. Like their religion. As for the other questions, you're missing the point. **

**Robin: How?**

**Robin: Fine. Any other questions?**

**Mona: Finally you listen. **

**Robin: I was kidding, but go on. **

**Mona: I don't appreciate your sarcasm, but here goes: Who was your first love? What's the worst thing to ever have happened to you? Have you tried to kill someone? What's your most embarrassing moment? **

**Robin: Um**

**Mona: FORGET IT, Little Mr. Articulate. I'll meet you for coffee. See ya later. Bye. **

**Robin: Bye?**

Mona huffed angrily out of the house. She had thrown on a pair of slouching boots and a thigh length casual blue dress. Her plan had just taken a nosedive off into the deep end. He probably thought she was a stalker now. Whatever, she could test it again later. Why couldn't he just lie to her? It was as simple as that yet as complicated as teaching a dog human speech patterns. She chalked this mission down as unsuccessful. Maybe her think tank would improve when she filled it with caffeine.

"I'm leaving." She yelled even though she knew no one was home. The door slammed shut behind her.

_**Author's Note: Huge thank you to the real life equivalents of Mona and Faye. You're cool. The "script" style format used for texting or computer messages will rarely be used.**_


End file.
